Blood is Thicker
by L. Durven
Summary: When Hermione finds out that her entire life has been a lie, manipulated by none other than one Albus Dumbledore, her wavering loyalty is finally pushed over the edge. Is it even possible to betray those who have all but abandoned you? H.Riddle/DM
1. A Gift of Acknowledgement

When Hermione finds out that her entire life has been a lie, manipulated by none other than one Albus Dumbledore, her wavering loyalty is finally pushed over the edge. Is it even possible to betray those who have all but abandoned you? It's seventh year, and the Golden Trio has been broken apart, with the least likely member of the Order defaulting to the ranks of Voldemort. The game is war, and winner takes all.

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><p><strong>WarningAuthor's Note:**

Hermione _Riddle_ story, please expect OOC all around (naturally).  
>Dumbledore is the baddy. He probably, er, maybe? meant well though.<br>Should be book compliant up to year five-ish?  
>And finally, Draco  Hermione ship.

Rated M for violence, language, and one tiny little bit of sexual content.

Characters and universe do not belong to me, and of course I'm not making any profit. Thank you JK for such a wonderful series, and forgive me for showing my love through sacrilege.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 1<br>**_A Gift of Acknowledgement_

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><p>August 1, 1997<p>

Becoming a Death Eater was neither a simple nor pleasant ordeal. For a known muggleborn like herself, it was preposterous. Even the witches and wizards from the purest of bloodlines could fail this test, and if at any given time there was any sign of weakness, or any cause for doubt, they would be killed on the spot. Luckily, tonight's candidate had a surprising ace up her sleeve. _If_ she could live long enough to play it.

It was shortly after midnight when Tom's Inner Circle had gathered at Malfoy Manor for the trial. Often, if the candidate was not well liked, they would suffer jeers. Wormtail had been a classic example of this. However, the contempt held for her was apparently _beyond_ snickering, _beyond_ taunting, and _beyond_ purist catcalls. Even Bellatrix, who often found herself unable to hold her tongue, stood with her back rigid, mouth shut, and eyes narrowed.

Simply put: the atmosphere, a mixture tension and shock, could be cut with a wand.

The young woman who lay prostrate before them was none other than one Hermione Granger; hands, face and clothes all caked in blood-soaked mud. Her muscles suffered spasms from the aftershocks of several bouts of Crucio. She tried to calm her ragged and uneven sobs as much as she could, but with the silence that reigned around her, it was futile.

"I would hear your reasons, _child_. I'm sure that you're aware we're rarely sympathetic to... _your sort._"

A sneer surfaced and she nearly spat at this. Another thing she wasn't qualified for, was it?

There are _always_ exceptions, she wanted to say. '_No_,' she reminded herself, '_that way of thinking no longer applies to me_. _From now on, if a muggleborn wants a chance they will have to step up to the challenge. They will have to learn what it's like. They will have to take the initiative, for I am done with them. No more holding their hands, no more coddling them, no more fighting for a collective unit that will do nothing more than complain. I have given them everything, and received nothing in return_. _My sort, huh?_ _My sort would show more ambition. My sort would...' _she cut herself off. She had to convince _him_. There was no time for bitter mind rants, especially since she suspected that she could not take another Crucio. Willing her voice to reflect the conviction she held, opposed to the weakness in her body, she answered:

"I want to be a Death Eater because I want change. I want to learn what society has forbidden me to. I want to tap into my core, and unlock my full potential. Most of all, I want to join because I want to win. Order be damned, I _can't_ agree with their cause, their thinking and even more, their methods. _Albus Dumbledore..._" Her voice shook with fury at the inability to find words to describe the insufferable man. Her rage soon drained away to be replaced by exhaustion, and before her nerve was lost completely, she quietly murmured: "And I do believe you'll find my heritage is not a problem, sir."

His grip was almost painful as he forced her eyes to meet his. He did not look surprised; perhaps he had known all along, or at least suspected. If he did, he said nothing, but she could feel him slip into the forefront of her mind. It felt like she had been submersed into a pool of warm water; his probing was so wide and even, that she was unable to pinpoint the location of his entry. It didn't matter. This is what she had been waiting for, _thank Merlin_. There was no better way to prove her words than to show him her displeasure. Legimens meant that her answer had initiated at least a little bit of interest. This was the next test. She was at his mercy but she had nothing to hide, so she opened the floodgates of her mind until there was not a crack or crevasse that he could not enter. Most minds laid open in this manner were annoying to navigate, so she took the initiative to push forward the thoughts and memories in chronological order: from the moment she had begun to doubt, to the time she decided her loyalties lay elsewhere. He accepted them in this manner, carefully picking them apart and taking time to slip into the other, irrelevant bits that she wasn't giving him, but had left accessible nonetheless. She understood that what she found important may not be the same as he. This would also grant him the cross reference that he would need to ensure that she was not harbouring fabricated memories.

_Six years of working alongside people who didn't care. The pleasure of knowing so much turning to a distaste of knowing more than everyone else without effort. The sudden realization that waving her hand and answering questions did nothing. The scathing, accusing glares from fellow students. Show-off. Know-it-all. _

_Receiving multiple letters declining her apprenticeships. Some worded carefully, others bold enough to use words such as 'heritage'. The most annoying one being from the Ministry, denying her a position because her ideas were too radical, her qualifications did not promote what they had in mind. Her marks were too high, and therefor she made others feel inferior. Her thesis was unattainable._

_Finding that there were less animagi. Less spell research. Lower OWL and NEWT levels despite the content being unchanged in over a hundred years. The Wizarding World had reached its peak, and abruptly worked to maintain what it had. By doing this, they created a decline that had begun to snowball over time._

_Shortly after Halloween, receiving the letter that her parents had died in a car accident. Memories of the funeral caused renewed grief to wash over her. Guilty relief resurfaced to mark the realization that she was free to openly participate in the war now. They would not be used as ammunition against her. They would not die by Riddle's hand, or be brainwashed by the Order in retaliation. They would not suffer the slow and agonizing death that Albus had always implied would happen whenever she did something reckless._

_Winter hols, when no one would approach her (sorrow is infectious, after all), she stumbled on a small collection of forgotten, banned texts. She had taken solace in them, and soon found herself reading more and more. Blood magic, potions, wards, hexes. All illegal. All forbidden. These things could help win the war. On the contrary, if anyone found out she was learning these things, it would ruin her. That didn't stop her from continuing, though. She learned to mask her thoughts and face, so no one would pry._

_The memories shifted to early spring, when she finally attended her first Order meeting. She had brought up some very valid contradictions to their plan of attack, been ignored, and the Order had lost. She had been begrudged her for her input, and not invited again. Harry and Ron had, of course, sided with the Order, telling her that her ideas were too severe, and that the planning should be left to Dumbledore. She saw them frequently attend meetings after that, and they would speak about it in front of her in hushed tones. As if it was her choice to no longer be part of the group._

Voldemort rifled through her Dark Arts knowledge a bit more. Though his thoughts were shielded from her, he allowed a wave of pleasure to escape. She had talent, understanding, ability, and was an exceptionally fast and willing learner. She beamed. His response was beyond what she had hoped for. Hermione had wanted to be accepted for what she had to offer, and riding the confidence that Tom had instilled in her, she offered up her last memory not just as an ace, but as a gift. She felt the memory being pulled forward with some interest.

_She was thinking of her parents in Grimmauld library when she cast the spell. She dispelled it and cast again, thinking she had made some sort of error. Dumbledore had found her engulfed within the unexpected, vermillion glow, but refused to answer her questions. In fact, with a flick of his wand he had dispelled the light and turned to leave. At the door he stopped and softly advised her that she should not be casting unnecessary spells above her skill level. She did not miss the subtle warning, and wondered why he was so upset. If anyone should have been put out... Afterwards, she found herself kept busy and away from the library, a request she was sure came from the Headmaster. The aurors were not discreet when they came, searching for unacceptable reading material. When he caught her watching one day, she masked her emotions and returned to her work. Joke's on them, she had thought bitterly. As if she didn't move them that very night knowing full well what Dumbledore's reaction was going to be._

She thought this would be it, but suddenly Voldemort was pushing to the very back of her mind, tossing years of her childhood to the side as he went further and further back. A thing about memories: when you rifle through ones the holder has no recollection of, it's mildly uncomfortable. In cases of Obliviate, the memory is not entirely gone. Its shattered remnants have been forced into a barrier within the deepest recesses of the mind. Even a moment of curious inquiry can be agonizing. It can drive a person mad. So it was no surprise when panic began to bubble up inside her as the barrier she didn't know existed (obviously, since she would never remember an Obliviate) was examined carefully. The pain she was bracing herself for never came though; the knowledge that she had been Obliviated in the first place seemed to be enough for him, and he withdrew.

Unlike his entry, his exit was cold and slithery, and though she recovered quickly, it was a bit disconcerting. She slammed her mind shut behind him, and it took everything she had not to sigh in relief. She was still alive, and even felt like she might be able to stand. The decision was crystal, but before anything was said Tom stared at her in astonishment and threw his head back, letting out a bark of laughter. His voice held no malice or wickedness, though a hint of triumph echoed through the night air. He addressed his Death Eaters, who still stood silent.

"Brothers and sisters, I present to you our new member. Though her upbringing is ... _highly_ _unfortunate_, it may still be salvageable. Teach her the things she has been denied. She is already on the right path." He then turned his attention back to Hermione, reaching forward to cup her chin and examine her face. Terror had been replaced by stern confidence. Shaking had been reduced to the occasional spasm that escaped her control. Eyebrows were knit together, eyes radiating pride. Tom's eyes gleamed as he spoke reassuringly to her.

"When we are done, you will be all the things you seek: powerful, educated, and valuable to our cause. Rise, _child_." He had called her child earlier tonight, but it amazed her how different it sounded. His tone now held a note of protective sincerity. His expression was quiet, commanding, and she felt compelled to do as he said. With a flick of his wand, she was encased in the same glow from her memory. The only difference was the thin tendril that broke off from her and wrapped around his wand. She felt her mouth fall slightly agape in shock. Tom, who now radiated triumph from only his eyes and the slight upturn of one side of his mouth, held her gaze. What the tendril meant... he knew, she knew, and it seemed the Death Eaters knew too.

The response was deafening.

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><p><strong>AN:**

Please R&R and let me know what you think so far! I have about 18,000 words done of this story, and the basic guideline of what I want to happen (which is much more than 18,000 words by the looks of it) but before I drain the rest of my life... (I mean, dedicate a portion of it) I wanted to get some feedback and see what everyone thinks so far. (Not to mention reviews encourage me to keep writing, obviously!) Anyway, thanks for reading, will get the next chapter cleaned up and posted soon!


	2. I Never Knew You

**CHAPTER 2  
><strong>_I Never Knew You_

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><p>She had finished the library long ago, but despite this, Hermione was back at Grimmauld Place pawing through the bookshelf. She mostly came here out of habit and because the room offered her privacy and place to think.<p>

Of course she had come to terms with her heritage beforehand, but to find out that she was... _his_ child? She had a strong suspicion that Dumbledore had known all along, and that it was a tidbit of information she wasn't supposed to find out. _Ever_.

_Dad?_ No, that sounded wrong and foreign. Around the Death Eaters she would have to call him Father out of respect, but to her the parental term would probably always bring forth a middle-aged muggle with glasses, sandy hair, and wrinkles around his eyes from a lifetime of smiles. Her biological father would _never_ have smile wrinkles. In fact, the only wrinkle that man had was a small crease between his eyebrows from making so many angry faces. She snorted in amusement before letting a wistful wave of longing wash over her at the loss of her muggle father.

Last night_ Tom_ had sat back and watched the proceedings closely. Everyone in the circle knew what the tendril had meant, and perhaps a bit more since this circle harboured his longest and most trusted members. A discussion was clearly not in order though – not tonight anyway. It was late, just enough time for them to quickly greet her as was customary and head home.

Bellatrix was the only one who wouldn't approach her, opting to stand by Tom's side and mutter things into his ear while he absently nodded. Most members came forth with grave expressions. Others seemed almost gleeful, and greeted her with smiles and claps on the back. Some looked awkwardly around for assistance. They were not rude, just unsure of how to react. She couldn't blame them.

Lucius Malfoy had joined Bellatrix and Tom, and she had expected him to stay there. When he excused himself and approached her, she wasn't quite sure what to do. Of all people, what was _he_ supposed to say? _Hello, if I realized you were our Lord's daughter I probably wouldn't have tried to dispose of you so often. So sorry. By the way, would you like me to talk to the Ministry of Magic about your apprenticeship and lack of?_

When he stopped in front of her, they shared a long look but nothing more. He looked as regal and righteous as always and seemed unwilling to shred even an ounce of dignity during this exchange. She had come to expect a certain villainous behaviour from him, but now she suspected it was nothing more than a case of pureblood arrogance. He did not grovel, he did not pretend. He did not shoot her a piteous glance as if to say: _Poor you, raised by muggles!_

Nothing was actually said or done, which may have seemed strange to the others around them. He could no longer hate her for being muggleborn, and she could not longer hate him for being a Death Eater. Sure, both of them were probably still intent on holding a grudge or two, but who could blame them? They were of one mind in this matter, and with a quirk of his lips, he returned to his spot by Tom. A truce of sorts had been called, this much was clear. If anyone had told her that she would not only forgive, but come to respect Lucius Malfoy in a matter of minutes, she probably would have punched them right in the schnoz.

To so easily side with a group that was so prejudice of blood superiority seemed shocking when she considered her own upbringing. If - no, _when_ the Order learned of her defection... what would everyone think? _What would Harry think_?

The group had dispersed shortly after, with promise to meet again, and she had been granted leave to return to Grimmauld before anyone missed her. When she returned, she thanked the spirits that no one ran into her before she reached the washroom. Not only was she exhausted, but she was still caked in blood and dirt. Try explaining that one.

She frowned. It hadn't been something she considered at the time. First night and she was already making stupid mistakes. _Great._

She didn't hear anyone come in, and was still mulling over her thoughts when a rough hand grasped her arm and she was slammed into the bookshelf in front of her. Most of the Order lacked stealth, and she was not so far lost in thought to have missed one of those mooses tromping through the library. Not to mention the Order wasn't really a violent sort, and the grip on her arm was going to leave a bruise. Sure, there were a few, older members that seemed a little shady and might do uncouth things when no one was around to see, but as far as she was concerned only one person would come here trying to brutalize her. Someone who wasn't at the meeting last night, but would hear about her defection soon after. She did not need to visually verify her attacker, even if his reaction was a little out of character.

"Professor."

"What do you think you're playing at?" asked a voice, dangerously low. She had heard it for six years and would recognize it anywhere, especially since it was a tone he often used on Harry. Fury overshadowed the normal silk quality that often rode the undertones of his voice. He had heard about her defection, that much was obvious, though she gathered from his reaction he hadn't heard much else. "I asked you a question, Miss Granger. What do you think you're playing at? Do you think you can be a hero? Save the Order? Maybe help _Potter,_" Harry's name was spat out, "by sacrificing yourself for the greater good? Answer me!" He pulled her back and slammed her against the books again. As if she'd confess her ill intentions towards Tom Riddle - if she had any, that was - through a little battery instead of the bouts of crucio she had suffered. She voiced as much, and though she could feel the grip on her arms tighten substantially, she couldn't help but gloat.

"What are you going to do, Professor?" she asked. He had been lost in his own thoughts after her previous comment, and had almost missed what she had just said. He couldn't see her face, but he could hear the sly smile of triumph in her voice. Who was this girl he had pinned? Kind, naive Miss Granger? Miss Granger, who had suffered through more than one crucio, let Tom rifle through her mind without protest, received his blessing _and_ shook hands with most of the Death Eaters without batting an eyelash? Miss Granger who suddenly agreed with a bunch of purebloods about blood supremacy? No, this couldn't be Granger. This was an imposter. He tried to pry her around to face him so he could cast legimens. She resisted, and in a fit of rage he roughly stuck his wand in her side which he knew was still tender. He heard a snarl.

Next thing he knew he was slumped against an adjacent wall, pieces of the drywall falling about him, and a shoe pinning him down by the shoulder.

"_Don't_." It had to be the shortest sentence he had ever heard out of her mouth, and the most meaningful. Eyes narrowed, wand pointed, heel still digging, he was sure something particularly nasty was coming. Looking up he met her gaze.

_And realized his error_. This house was full of people who either couldn't use legimens, or were too polite to do so. In order to conserve his magic (mainly for when Albus was around), he kept only basic shields up. He didn't realize she had a gift in attacking minds. He had no time to praise her, however, because with her eyes still narrowed and not looking the least bit frustrated, she began her assault.

Now, each person attacks a mind differently. Some people will approach it from the angle that their master's taught them, others will adapt their own. In his youth, he himself had a similar approach to the one Miss Granger was now taking. It was the kind you learned by self education, and practicing on others. Had Miss Granger been raping the minds of her fellow students? Or had she tested it out on muggles?

She was making a show by hammering at his barriers loudly. It sounded a little like she was taking a hammer to his skull, and it was beginning to feel like it too. He focused his energy in shielding the place she was trying to get in, and grudgingly realized that he had to draw strength from the other areas just to protect this one. How was this mere slip of a girl threatening to break through a barrier even Voldemort found hard to get into - and Voldemort was a sly bastard and very good at what he did.

He inwardly grimaced as she felt her pluck that stray thought from the forefront of his mind. Her eyes narrowed and her brow creased deeper.

The pounding abruptly stopped. Panicking, he spread his strength over his entire wall. When she didn't continue for several minutes, he wondered if she was looking for a crack. She was still there, he could feel her, and his mind raced trying to decide where she would strike.

He was beginning to feel a little more confident until she entered his mind again. She was copying Tom's style exactly. A warm flood engulfed his entire mind. So shocked was he by her ability to manipulate her method so quickly and precisely, she found a crack to slip into and it was over.

She decimated the whole barrier – controlling its defence from the inside, and obliterating it with her original method from the out. There was nothing left that he could hide behind while she rummaged, no protection he could afford himself as she took his mind. He was irrevocably at her mercy, and with a horrifying realization, he knew that not only could she view whatever she pleased, but that she could render him useless.

Memory after memory piled up. She rifled through them brutally, leaving him dizzy and disorientated until finally she pulled out sharply. He could barely register his skull being knocked against a board that was peeking out from bits of debris. She came close enough to force him to focus on her, and clenched his jaw in her hand. Sweat soaked her skin and hair. It meant she had dedicated every ounce of energy and mana to decimating his mind. It provided little comfort.

"I'm going to say this once, _Snape_. I value my mind more than anything, and I will destroy anyone or anything who threatens it, _including_ the Order. The only reason I did not destroy you, mind that I had every intention of doing so, was because we're somewhat similar." She let go of him and he slumped further.

He understood what she had meant. If he turned out to be true to the Order, she would have killed him. If he turned out to be loyal to Voldemort, but did not think the same way, she would have killed him. It frightened him that he knew these were not empty threats: she would have snuffed his life out with less hesitation than she would a candle, and not regret it in the least. She would have gotten away with it.

He knew the Order looked down on her, did not trust her tactical mind, and despite their preaching for equality, were still biased to her dirty blood. He had been at the meeting when Miss Granger had presented a very well thought out counter attack. She had pointed the flaws of the Order's plan out: the weak parts that would be vital but easily leaked. They had ignored her. She had been right, but even now no one would admit it. He wondered if the Order would ever understand what they had done.

This was his final thought as he slipped into unconsciousness. He barely heard her footsteps leave the room.

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><p>The following Friday he found her in the reading room playing chess. He had overheard Weasley and Potter earlier in the week talking about how Hermione had been bed ridden for three days due to some mysterious illness. It gave him comfort: that was the average time it took to fully recover from using most of your magic. It was nice to know that if he had his barriers at full strength, which he would from now on, she would not be able to break in. With proper training, she could be on par with him in two years. He made a note to get on her good side.<p>

Lupin was sitting nearby watching the game with Potter seated next to him. Severus entered the room, and though Hermione and Lupin noted his presence, neither boy did and continued giving the chess board their unwavering attention.

"I'm a little surprised you agreed to play, Hermione."

"I've been practicing, and I can't always keep saying no, now can I?"

"You were pretty abysmal before, maybe you'll last ten minutes now?"

It was ten minutes later that he spoke again.

"Ah, I was worried when you said you had practiced. You're still horrible; you've given up most of your pawns and both your knights. You're just not cut out for this sort of thing!" His dig was clear: chess is like war, and you shouldn't try to do either. Everyone in the room tensed momentarily, well aware this was a sensitive issue. Hermione said nothing, but she shot Severus a small smirk. If the Order had listened that night they would have had a monumental victory over them. He knew that, she knew that. Joke was on Weasley, the boy would find out too soon that war and chess were two _very_ different games.

The game looked in Weasley's favour. It was true the Hermione was giving up her pieces in what seemed sloppy moves, but Severus noticed how her eyes darted around the board furtively, and though her hand moved her sacrificial piece to a designated spot, her mind was elsewhere. He wondered if anyone else could see what she was up to. Remus might. The wolf looked like he wanted to say something, but never got the chance.

"What the-" The sound of his king crumbling across the board cut Ron off. A few other pieces began to protest, but with a glare from Hermione they silenced.

"By trying to save as many pieces as possible, you trapped your king, Ronald." There was a deafening silence as Hermione pushed her chair back and smiled brightly down at him. "I guess the victory is mine. _Finally_." The last part was an annoyed mumble. Clearly Weasley had bested her frequently. Severus laughed inwardly. It was a known fact that Weasley flattened almost everyone in chess.

"But you only have like three pieces left! I have-" Her smile vanished.

"I was not aware that the number of pieces left contributed to victory. I thought king was the deciding factor. Are those not the rules?" Weasley turned red and sputtered. Hermione smiled sweetly and bowed her head, excusing herself and turning to leave. On her way, she gave a pointed look at Snape. How many more times would he see her emerge victorious because she had been underestimated?

_Interesting._

The boys started bantering back and forth with Remus kindly reminding them that it was just a game, and that Hermione won fair and square. If Potter and Weasley noticed his presence, they still did not acknowledge it. He preferred it that way as he ducked out and headed in the direction he had seen Granger go.

He found her in the kitchen, staring out the window with a serious expression. He couldn't help but step up beside her and look out the window for whatever had intrigued her so. It was nothing, he realized, she was lost in thought about something. Probably the letter clutched in her hand.

"I really hope I'm a rook." The game was still fresh in his mind, and it didn't appear that she was going to acknowledge his presence on her own. She didn't advert her gaze, but her forehead unscrunched and she smiled lopsidedly. It was gesture that showed genuine amusement, and he found himself perplexed. He _knew_ that she was practicing dark arts, so why did she still have the childish innocence that most people lost the moment they began to dabble?

"Of course you are," she murmured, looking over at him now. "Voldemort is the King. Malfoy is also a rook, and Bellatrix is the knight I have to grudgingly keep around despite the fact she can only move in demented ways." He chuckled.

"And you're the Queen?" She raised an eyebrow.

"My game, guess I would be. Otherwise I'd switch spots with you. You are, after all, the most flexible." She rubbed her face and suddenly it seemed as though all the energy had drained from her.

"You still look a little pale." He watched as any remnants of her smile vanished entirely. "_You idiotic child_." She didn't protest when he grabbed her arms and pushed the sleeves up. "Here I was praising you for putting in the effort, when really you have no idea on your current limit. You came very close to burning out your core." Her veins were abnormally dark, and her skin almost a glowing white. She was obviously wearing a glamour on her face and hands to cover up most of the damage.

"I am aware." His head snapped up.

"You were prepared to die for something so stupid?" She tore her arms away and rolled down her sleeves, snarling. He wondered if he was going to spend the afternoon repairing another wall.

"Call it what you will, but can you honestly tell me what you would have thought if I just let you overpower me? Scare me off? What were _you_ going to do, Professor? I didn't know who's side you were on, but I knew my mind would have been the one forfeited if I didn't get yours first. Am I wrong?" There was a long pause as each of them glared at the other.

"Good offence is the best defence, is it?" He sighed and stepped away, rubbing his temples with his fingers. "What am I going to do with you? I concede, you're right. And no, I wouldn't have trusted you, not when I knew you couldn't hold your own."

"Professor, I do believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to a student!" He scoffed, and her expression changed abruptly, no longer angry. "Professor," she began. "Can I ask you a favour?"

"And what makes you think I'd be inclined to extend you _any_ favour?" She looked taken aback for a moment and he rolled his eyes, "Oh out with it, for Merlin's sake."

"Could escort me to Diagon Alley tomorrow?" She motioned to her letter. "I thought Tom would know that I can't get there myself, not during the day at least, but regardless I've received summons." His expression lightened and he nodded. Thank Merlin, he had been worried she actually had the guts to ask him for a shopping trip. His relief was washed away though when she murmured something about stopping into Flourish and Blotts, and he narrowed his eyes, annoyed.

"I will come to collect you shortly before half past nine. I cannot guarantee the additional stop, however." He left immediately after. Hermione stared at his retreating form, fully aware that he hadn't said no outright, and silently hopeful that her feared potions professor was going to continue having somewhat bearable moments from now on. Who would have thought?

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><p>Hermione was rarely late for Molly's breakfast on Saturdays, so when she bound in quarter after nine the entire table turned to look at her. Normally everyone just showed up in a collection of wrinkled clothes from the day before, or pyjamas - especially the kids who didn't go out much on weekends. Hermione's polished look threw most of the table for a loop, but she ignored them in favour of sitting down and piling her plate high with a various assortment of items.<p>

She wore her normal jeans and shoes, but the white collared dress shirt especially seemed out of place. Earrings peeked out from behind a curtain of tamed curls, and the locket her parents had given her years ago disappeared down under her shirt. Her shoes were on, her purse was slung over a shoulder, and sunglasses nestled firmly on top of her head.

Yup, Hermione Granger was going somewhere, and since only the adults went gallivanting off on whims, her mysterious itinerary caused quite the interest.

"Where you off to this morning, dear?" Molly's voice was curious, as was expected.

She wished she could have mustered her most impressive poker for: "Oh, just going to visit Voldie. He's really intent on making up for those lost custody rights."

Nope. This was unfortunately not the time or place for sarcastic honesty, so she just replied simply with the planned response of, "off to find some reading material."

"'Mione!" Ronald complained, bacon drooping out the side of his mouth. She winced. Such horrible manners. "You have an entire library here to read!" The rest of the table looked at her expectantly.

"I'm finished." Ha, as if she couldn't read while cleaning. Besides, a library of that size would never take her _years_ finish. If anyone else looked like they might dispute her claim, it was Molly who frowned as if to say, 'Read? Didn't I give you enough work to last you until graduation?'

"You're finished the _entire_ library?" She gave Ron a deadpan stare, and anyone who was thinking the same thing suddenly looked abashed. It was as if they just realized there was such a thing as a stupid question.

"So who you goin' with?" Fred and George questioned, their sing song voices in perfect unison. This was a more reasonable inquiry. It wasn't that the kids had nothing to do, it was the fact that they did nothing without explicit permission from the adults. Even Fred and George had trouble getting permission to take Harry, Ron or Ginny for the day. She was in the same boat. Before she could answer herself, an irritated voice cut through the room.

"Miss Granger, I've come to collect you."

"Professor Snape," she greeted respectfully. Perfect timing! Arthur and Molly looked flabbergasted, as if the idea of Snape taking her out shopping was preposterous... oh wait, _it was_. Remus just nodded, but said nothing. The rest of the table, who were all under twenty, looked as though they just found out they had to bunk with a boggart. Ron actually spit his chewed breakfast back onto his plate and choked, but no one seemed to notice or care. She pushed her chair in, put her plate on the counter and quickly adjusted her clothes. Snape was looking more aggravated by the second, which was expected, and with a wave to the table she stepped past him and left Grimmauld before anyone could stop her.

When they got to the apparition point, he stiffly offered his arm. She grabbed it and the drab surroundings of Grimmauld materialized into Diagon Alley. The shopping district was warm and sunny today, and the streets buzzed with excited shoppers. It may be uncommon for Snape to be escorting a student, but if anyone thought so they didn't ask or take the time to stare. He lead her to Flourish and Botts, where she bounded up the steps and burst into the store with the same exuberance one might show if it was the annual sickle-a-sale day. The manager looked up, startled, but his face relaxed and his eyes twinkled when he saw her staring at him expectantly.

"Ah, one of my best young customers." He saw Snape standing at the doorway and frowned. "Professor, was everything alright with your last order?" Hermione wanted to sigh in relief when her professor's gaze slid off her for the first time and onto the store's manager. He almost seemed to relax as he replied,

"Of course, Theodore. It was satisfactory, as always. I was free today, so I am just escorting the girl as per her request." His eyes moved back to Hermione, and any warmth or kindness they had harboured, disappeared. As a valued vendor, Theodore was used to Severus being reasonable with him, but was not unaware of his reputation otherwise. He shot Hermione a look of pity over his spectacles. Snape was pinning her with a glare that said her very existence was disagreeable at best.

"So what will it be today, dear? Potions? Arithmancy? Or perhaps you would like to branch out and read something fictional? I have a lovely book about-" If the look on her face didn't cut him off, the snort of laughter that escaped Snape did.

"I have not seen the girl read anything fictional in her entire life." She shot an incredulous glare over her shoulder at her professor, who in turn just raised an eyebrow and masked his face back to his normally disgruntled look. She watched Theodore wring his hands nervously and look embarrassed, as though he may have just offended her. Oh, that _Snape_, what did he know? Mind, it _had_ been a long time, long before she was delving in things she shouldn't have been. Regardless, she used to read fiction quite a bit! There was nothing wrong with Theodore offering it, she decided, even if she had never purchased it from here prior.

Truth be told though, she wasn't interested in a storybook, not at this time anyway. There was a war coming and so many educational endeavors that could help prepare her, so taking the manager up on his offer would be purely out of spite. _And why not_, she suddenly thought. _It's not like I couldn't read it later._ Later, like... _after_ the war.

Smiling, she clapped her hands together and exclaimed, "Oh, don't mind him! If you're recommending something I'm sure it'll be _absolutely_ delightful!" She smirked in his direction, but Snape's face didn't change save a small twitch of his eye. The manager looked surprised, then pleased, and lead her down several twists and turns of books until finally he stopped.

The further into the store they got, the stranger the atmosphere began to feel. It wasn't reassuring when Theodore got a sort of glazed look and retracted his hand all of a sudden.

"No, this will not do." He turned and disappeared down another aisle to the right before she could say anything further. "Come along, child." She frowned. Theodore _always_ called her 'miss' or 'dear'. Despite this, she followed the sound of his voice, and found him ransacking through a collection of books that looked like they hadn't been touched for a good decade. There was no topic listed above, so when he reached up and plucked a thin hardcover from the top shelf, she had no idea what kind of book she was going to get. He turned and pulled a second book from nearby, this one thick and heavy with a soft leather binding and gilded pages. The manager turned and handed the books to her, still looking as though he was anywhere but there. Once they had left his hands he blinked and stared at her, confused. He frowned as though he wanted to say something, but did not.

"I don't think I've ever been to this part of the store before," she offered. This seemed to bother him a little, and he mumbled something about it being the odds and ends of rare, magical books that no one ever came to buy. She felt herself pale a little, rare books were often expensive, magical ones even more so, and she didn't have much to her name. "Well sir, I'm not sure I can afford-"

"They've been back here for a long time. I will charge you but three galleons for both." She sighed. Why did it seem impossible to leave here without emptying her purse? The books intrigued her though, and something told her not to deny the offer. She followed Theodore to the front, mildly curious about what she had in her arms, but she didn't dare stop to examine them. Not now. He shrunk them, bagged them dust and all, and waited for her to hand him two galleons and all her spare change._ Well, there goes my year's allowance for books_. She still felt perplexed by the whole ordeal, but he waved her off with a small smile and wished her the best of reading like he always did.

If Snape thought Theodore was acting strangely, he said nothing. They made no other stops along the way, and walked in awkward silence once again. She couldn't help but notice that ever since he had come to collect her that he had been scrutinizing her as if - _Oh_.

She knew that the Death Eaters gathered almost every Friday, and she had known that Severus was in attendance this week. _Of course_ he would have been made fully aware of the circumstances. She frowned. If that was the case, why would he be angry? _It's Professor Snape_, a small voice in her head chided, _do you need any other explanation_? Despite that, his attitude still bothered her.

"Is there a problem, Professor?" He continued to look at her, but now his eyes narrowed.

"_Obviously_." She was taken aback by his response. A little offended, she met his glare with one of her own. She had fully intended to hold it, but there was just something about the way his eyes glittered dangerously that would make any sane person run for the hills. Finally, she looked away sheepishly with a huff, but could see out of the corner of his eye that his expression hadn't changed.

"I've been looking at you against my will for _six_ years, yet I never once saw it." Again. Was the man incapable of using one sentence that didn't include an insult?

She grit her teeth and in as polite of tone as she could muster, asked: "Saw _what_, Professor?" He squinted his eyes and examined her more thoroughly, as if it would distort the image into what he wanted to see.

"_Your mother_. I'm curious how when we realize who you are, suddenly we recognize your parentage. I find it impossibly unlikely that it would go unnoticed by everyone. Yet you look precisely the same as you did, so it's no form of glamour." He thought for a moment, frowning again. Snape obviously didn't like being presented things that he couldn't easily find an answer to. "You don't have very many of Tom's physical attributes..." She wondered if he meant she didn't look much like the old version of their master, or if she just didn't appear as though she'd been resurrected out of a cauldron lately. He was obviously done sharing his thoughts though, so they went back to silence. It was a little less strained, but not by much.

They finally reached a small alcove near Knockturn Alley, and when they were sure to be hidden from any prying eyes, she reached up and took his arm without being prompted. She knew Severus could apparate silently, so when they appeared at Malfoy Manor with a loud crack she assumed it was customary to make yourself known one way or another.

The iron gates towered in front of them, not unlike Hogwart's. As Severus pushed his way through the front and beckoned her in she couldn't help but gape openly at the grounds. Perfectly trimmed hedges lined the pathway they walked down, almost as tall as the fences. The manor itself shone a rich shade of almond in the sunlight, with green tiles topping the different tower wings that burst forth from the roof. All in all it was a stunning sight, and much more awe inspiring than wherever they had held her initiation. Of course, maybe she was too busy being tortured to notice before. She could see how this place would be discouraging for those unwelcome.

"There is no need for formalities here, you needn't bow or hold your tongue." His voice snapped her out of her daze, and Severus smirked on seeing her discomfort. "Just imagine you're at an Order meeting, that's about the level of respect you need to show."

"Professor," she grimaced. "That's _hardly_ comforting. I practically got kicked out of the Order for my opinions. Did you forget?"

"Severus never forgets anything. You'll soon learn to tell when he's just being funny." Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin. Lucius, who had just appeared behind them from Merlin-knows-where, chuckled as if sharing a private joke. "No need to sweat, my dear. It's just a few of us, we didn't want to make you _too_ uncomfortable."

She nodded knowingly. She had received a letter from Victor implying that mentioned a small gathering he was thinking of having, and how he would like her to come so they could catch up. The letter had confused her, it was unlike him to suggest a rendezvous, but when she realized the scrawl on his letter was far too elegant, it had clicked.

A house elf pulled open the large double doors to the entrance, and Lucius walked on by, ignoring the small creature which huffed from the effort. Hermione scowled and nodded thanks, who in turn looked terrified at her notice. Despite her good intentions, none of the house elves trusted her after the whole S.P.E.W. incident. _Silly things_.

They were led through several rooms. The ceilings consistently rose at least two stories, if not higher, and various works of art adorned every wall and corner. To Hermione it seemed overwhelming and tacky, but she knew she was looking at the best dressed house in all of Britain. At least to those who cared about that sort of thing.

When they reached a sitting room (she found it hard to believe there would be just one in this place), the first thing she noticed was that the furniture was a floral pattern, and reminded her very much of the abysmal print that her grandmother used to favour. She schooled her amusement and took in the rest of the room. The curtains were thrown open to let the noon sun filter into the room. Tom was seated in a chair by himself. Draco's parents shared a loveseat. Severus went and sat on the larger couch. Tom's quiet greeting came as a nod, and she returned it. Sitting down on the opposite end from Professor Snape, Hermione stared longingly at the untouched tea and scones. She knew better than to be the first to help herself.

She was silent during the light conversation that ensued (weather, politics, and gossip), but made sure to pay attention, especially when the topic turned to the Death Eaters.

"I don't think we should tell Draco, not yet." Severus' voice was careful, and Hermione noted that he was using the same level of respect he had shown earlier to Theodore. His bad attitude was saved for everything Hogwarts, then. _Great_. Narcissa's brow furrowed, taking his suggestion as a slight against her son, but he raised his hand to silence her before she could say anything. "I mean no insult to Draco, but the boy has not been trained enough yet. Him knowing would surely create a more favourable relationship between him and Miss Granger. _However_, your son has not yet learned to school his emotions, nor has he had to keep secrets of this caliber. I plan to start working with him at the start of term, but otherwise I think it should wait."

"Until?" Lucius did not look angry, but merely curious. He obviously did not often keep his son out of the loop, but this was not news to Hermione.

"I will tell him." She worried that her statement may sound cocky, especially when all eyes narrowed on her. She hurried to explain herself. "Professor Snape is right. Over the years Draco has more than once said something he shouldn't have, not always by his fault. If Harry sees him even being _remotely_ nice to me, he'll think he's up to something. Draco will have no peace – Harry and his cloak will be on your son's heels nonstop for the rest of term. His obsession goes above and beyond the norm. It's always been borderline aggravating."

Lucius and Narcissa shot exasperated looks between each other. She suspected the rivalry between Draco and Harry was no secret in this household, though the extent of it may not have been known before now. Severus' face was set in a hard line over the mention of Harry. Tom fiddled with his wand. He obviously had nothing to say on the matter.

"Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy," they turned their attention back to her. "I mean no disrespect, but if Draco screws up, he has you to protect him. If I screw up..." She didn't need to finish the sentence. It was clear, and to her, frightening. She may be a student, but she was no longer a minor. She didn't come from a prominent bloodline - not one that could talk or buy her out of trouble anyway. Hell, if just her heritage got out she would probably have a one way ticket to Azkaban already. Condemned for who you are, not what you do. That was unfortunately how the wizarding world worked.

Lucius gave nothing away, but genuine concern flittered across the other woman's face. Severus gave a curt nod, he already knew the reality of this. "In any case, since the matter revolves around me, I would like the option of telling him when I feel comfortable to do so. _If_ that is acceptable."

"Do not think for a moment that you have no one to protect you, Hermione." No matter how softly Tom spoke, she realized that he would always have the full attention of whoever was in his company. No one missed the way he looked at Hermione like a possession he was not about to let go. "I can understand, however, the wish to complete your education without any... hiccups. I will allow you to tell Draco when you are ready, unless something arises before then that requires his foreknowledge." She shot him a thankful look.

"Perhaps we should wait to mark," Narcissa offered.

"We can mark her somewhere other than the forearm," suggested Lucius. It was not unheard of to be marked elsewhere, and especially since she was always rolling up her sleeves it was a good idea. She said as much.

After a few minutes of Narcissa and Lucius arguing where she should be marked, with the occasional comment from Professor Snape, she looked back to her father who was just watching her with mild curiosity. She felt a soft brush against her mind, but he did not enter.

_Honestly, why has no one asked me where I want it?_

_And where would you like it, child?_ His response was unexpected, and she nearly jumped off the couch. She felt him project just a touch of humour into her mind. He was happy, she realized, and for some reason it was contagious. She stood and walked over to him, unceremoniously pulling her shirt to the side, revealing her left shoulder. She did not wear tank tops or swim suits, did not bathe with the other girls at school, and it was no where so private it would be embarrassing to show. Tom pressed his wand into the spot firmly, muttering an incantation. She tried not to scream, but the pain that tore through her shoulder was like a mini crucio.

"It is done."

The room stared at them as though they had just gone ahead and done something none of them had approved. Severus shrugged and stood up from his spot.

"Unfortunately, I think it's time we return Miss Granger to the Order. Her shopping trip has long been over." Tom didn't protest, and Hermione realized with a sinking feeling that she didn't want to go back. She rubbed her throbbing shoulder even during their customary goodbyes. Before they left, Tom had quietly wished her well in her studies. She was disappointed at the foreknowledge that she'd be trapped at Grimmauld for the rest of the summer.

* * *

><p>It was two weeks later, almost the end of August, when Severus found himself back at the Order's safe house. He had just reported to Dumbledore and was on his way out the door, when a light coming from the reading room caught his attention. Against his better judgement, he approached and knocked lightly on the door.<p>

"Come in."

"Miss Granger." She grunted in reply, shuffling through books with a- was that? _No_. It couldn't be. Hermione Granger was shuffling through books with a bored look on her face. He couldn't help but guffaw in shock. "Have you finished the library already?" She looked ashamed for a moment, and looked elsewhere.

"Almost. What's left I... well, I don't want to read. They are books for household charms and garden transfiguration. They aren't... they... well..." It was almost painful watching the emotions flutter through her face. He knew what she wanted. It was what everyone wanted once they had a taste of the dark arts. _More_.

"Didn't we just go to Flourish and Blotts the other day? You bought two new books, did you not?" She nodded, biting her lip. "I read the smaller one, the other I need to wait to return to Hogwarts for. This is not the time or place to delve into it." Severus raised an eyebrow. The fact that she wouldn't touch the book screamed that it was not only a practical text, perhaps runes or wards, but one she absolutely _could not be caught reading_. Instead of prying he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if she was a problem he just couldn't rid himself of.

"It is late, Miss Granger. You should go to bed. Perhaps I will feel charitable tomorrow and have something worthwhile for you to read until the start of term." Her eyes brightened considerably, but soon turned to suspicion.

"Are you confused?"

"Pardon?"

"Professor, you... well, you're kind of snarky and irritable." She said it with such an innocent face, he actually believed that she hadn't meant to insult him. He waited for her to continue. "It doesn't feel the same. Sometimes you're worse than you were, and sometimes you're almost nice to me. You've sought me out. You've made conversation with me. You just offered to bring me a book. Yet for all I know, tomorrow you'll treat me as if I'm diseased." He blinked.

"Go to bed Miss Granger. I will see you tomorrow."

He could feel her eyes follow him until he disappeared out the front door of Grimmauld. She was absolutely correct, but he had no intention of changing his ways. He feared the day he may feel the need to explain himself.

Severus had gone straight home for some quality time with Ogden. The problem with firewhiskey, however, is that the more you drink, the more prone you are to dwell on things you don't want to. Several hours later when he was still staring into the amber liquid, he realized he had brooded over Granger for far longer than he ever wanted to. With a howl of fury, he pitched the remainder into the fireplace. It didn't make him feel any better.

The next day, after lunch, he caught her alone in the hallway. He reached into his pocket and slid the book towards her, and she took the hint and concealed it without stopping to look. They both glanced discreetly side to side to make sure none of the portraits had seen. She beamed at him and practically skipped away towards the library to examine her new prize.

He had planned to leave immediately afterwards, but found himself watching her closely from the safety of the doorway. If she knew he was there, she said nothing. Hermione's face shone as she peeled through the first few pages – a strange reaction to have while reading about illegal potions and their uses. He smiled sadly.

Severus regretfully admitted that he kind of liked her, which was a surprise considering the start of their comradeship involved nothing less than her raping his mind. She could laugh and joke, provide optimism where it was due. When she was in a good mood, she reminded him a lot of Draco. He was watching her mature into a young woman who had an uncanny resemblance to his master. Oh, it was true they may not share many physical attributes, but they shared the same pride and bad temper, the same dark tinge to their magic, and the same unquenchable thirst for knowledge and power.

Thank Merlin that the Headmaster didn't know Tom very well – if he caught these changes he would drop his project quicker than students drop licorice snaps. Oh, there was no proof that Albus was involved, but the whole ordeal wreaked of his meddling. How _convenient_ it was for no one to recognize the girl for _six_ years.

She should cut out her friends as soon as possible. Let whatever petty disputes she held with them fester. She should grow to hate them, defect to Tom openly, and leave this life behind. A look of pained sorrow etched across his face. It would _never_ be enough. He knew as much from personal experience.

Could anyone else even _comprehend_ what the betrayal in her friends' lifeless eyes would do to her? It would destroy her. He knew all too well; nightmares of finding Lily Potter dead still plagued him.

And if he couldn't even save himself, how was he supposed to save her?

He wondered if the stab of pain in his chest was for Lily, for himself, or for the girl who sat blissfully unaware of what was to come. _Prepare her_, Tom had ordered. _If only he could_.

_I respect you_, he thought finally, _but I _hate_ you for the impossible task your father has assigned to me_.

He turned and stormed from Grimmauld, slamming the door hard enough on his way out for it to rattle every painting and ornament on the first floor. Hermione closed her book and stared at the empty doorframe sadly. She hadn't needed a door to announce his exit.

If she could cause Severus Snape to watch her with such an anguished look on his face, it did not bode well for her. She spent the rest of the afternoon perched by the window, too distracted to even consider reading. Instead the book sat folded in her arms, providing what little comfort she could draw from it.

_Professor_, she thought sullenly, _what aren't you telling me?_

* * *

><p>AN: Wow everyone, thanks so much for the lovely reviews. I'll be trying to release a chapter every Saturday morning. Originally I wanted to do Fridays by 4, but the extra night will give me some extra time to do any last minute changes.

I was beginning to worry I wouldn't get it out today either. I went to see the new movie and just sat at my desk afterwards, staring at the screen like I didn't even know what to do anymore, lol! Do you guys know how impossible it is to write a nice Voldie when you've just watched him be a huge, crusty jackass for hours on end? Ahahaha. Oh geez. Anyway, next chapter Hermione finally returns to Hogwarts! Check back Saturday for the next update. R&R is greatly appreciated, as always.


	3. Off to a Bad Start

**CHAPTER 3**  
>Off to a Bad Start<p>

* * *

><p>He stole my Bertie Botts.<p>

She pulled my hair.

They shot a hex.

I saw a first year with a broom.

We forgot the common room password.

Someone put dung bombs in the toilets!

Can you tutor me?

Her seventh year had started poorly, starting with the trip back. Hermione had spent the entire summer at Grimmauld Place, so instead of having a few measly months in which she could repair her tolerance to idiocy, she had none. The entire holiday had revolved around Quidditch and the Order, and now that they were on the train it revolved around, oh, _Quidditch and the Order_. Imagine that. Both things that she was no part of.

At first she had been thankful for the little mishaps during the trip. At first she had a sense of pride at being able to help the younger years while also getting away from Harry and Ron momentarily. She may be a Death Eater, but there were things that would never change. After all, who could resist a fresh firstie in dire need? By dinner it was growing old, and she was in mid bite when a fifth year Gryffindor had tapped her on the shoulder, huffing because the Slytherins had thrown a pumpkin pastry at her. Hermione had taken one look at the smear that ran down the girl's shoulder, peered at the staff table, slid her gaze to the Slytherins (who were watching her smugly) and finished chewing her food. Before she could decide what to say, the frumpy girl before her asked haughtily: "_well_, what are you going to do about it?"

So much for being nice. Her eyes narrowed and she pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide her displeasure. What the hell was she supposed to do? Take points for an infraction she didn't see? Coddle her, and tell her how mean and nasty the Slytherins were? Throw down her napkin, stand on the table and declare war? She sighed and told the girl she would report it to a Professor after dinner. Unhappily, the chit turned and flounced away, mumbling something about how useless the Head Girl was.

Now, _now_ she was finally free. The Head Girl badge had been torn from her robes the moment she stepped out from the Great Hall, and she was trying her best to crush it as she took the long way to her new common room. It involved a lot of hidden passageways and corridors where she was sure she would not be interrupted by any more students. Slipping out from behind a tapestry, she sneered – honour indeed. What she thought might be a fun and rewarding responsibility was turning out to be a waste of her time. She had N.E.W.T.s to study for and a war to prepare for, among a few other things. Hermione simply didn't have the time or patience to help every ridiculous, spineless lemming who couldn't help themselves.

The increasingly angry echo that her boots made as she stomped through the basement level was slightly gratifying, and though the badge had seemed unyielding, she could have sworn that it had given a little under the continued pressure of her clenched fist. The quarters she had been assigned to as Head Girl would be shared with the Head Boy, who in this case was Draco. She felt envy for him bubble up inside her. No one would be bothering _him_ like this. No one would dare.

Remembering the shocked and disgusted look he shot her in the Headmaster's office, as if the fact they had to share a dorm was news to him, did nothing to hinder the ever growing curl of her top lip.

She took a left, passing the kitchens and the Hufflepuff common room. After a few more twists and turns she made it to the entrance of her dorm, and when she went in she made sure the portrait slammed shut behind her. If Draco was around, he would know that she was here, and that she was not in the mood for his nonsense tonight. Naturally though, he didn't care to take the hint. The young image of Lucius was settled on the settee, unpacking a small bag of belongings for the main room. He scooped up the contents and stuffed them back in the bag when he saw her.

"Augh, I best keep these in my room. It wouldn't do to have _mudblood_ prints on them."

Storming across the room before he could do anything, she grabbed his robes and he flinched in anticipation. Instead of hitting him, she pulled him towards her, pressing her thumb snugly against his forehead.

"Oi, Granger! What do you think you're doing?"

"Huh," she said, letting him fall back into the couch and scrutinizing his forehead. "I thought maybe mudblood fingerprints were different than regular. _Pity_. I kind of hoped it would burn a hole through your head. It's going to be a long year though, maybe I can just bring some kibbles and retrain you to be a _polite_ purist puppy." He still had that haughty, arrogant look on his face, but for a moment it faltered, which caused a satisfied smirk to creep into her face. Wiggling out of her grasp, he clasped the bag shut and stormed to his room, but not before shooting a confused glare over his shoulder.

Hermione sighed. She had always made a point never to raise to Draco's bait so quickly, and if this is how the first night of the school year was going to start, it didn't bode well for anyone. She retreated into her own room and locked the door. Safely tucked inside her trunk were the books she had promised herself that she'd look at closer once she returned. In the early hours of the morning she still hadn't made much progress, and with a loud yawn she decided she'd look at it more tomorrow. Regardless, when she finally drifted off an hour later, the book still lay open in her lap.

* * *

><p>The first night was nothing compared to the weeks that followed. By the third week she figured that it couldn't get much worse, unless of course she found out she was failing everything on top of it all. After six successful years of trouncing school records though, it probably wasn't possible.<p>

Sharing quarters with Draco was becoming beyond aggravating. He continued to pick his stupid fights with her daily, and at first whenever it became too overwhelming she just reminded herself that she could wipe that arrogant sneer right off his face. Permanently. The very thought made her giddy with excitement, and more than once she felt her fingers tugging lightly at her collar. Regardless, there was a reason he didn't know, and this reminder would always sober her. He still wasn't ready, so with this in mind she just accepted his taunts with gritted teeth and silence. Draco was smart, but he made no sense sometimes, and she knew from experience that you just can't argue with those type of people. Regardless, she found herself going to bed angry and hurt habitually, which did nothing for her quality of sleep.

Head Girl duties did not cease wasting her time. She had students bringing every little dispute and issue to her. Many of the issues were class or house related, so she often directed them to the Professor they would need to speak to. She almost throttled a boy who clearly argued that he didn't want to waste a Professor's time with their problem. Interesting, considering that Professors were paid for that sort of thing, whereas she was not. _Idiots_.

Almost all of her classes bore her to tears. She had _always_ been a year ahead, in some cases two, but now there were no further years to study for. She would have been able to complete these assignments _ages_ ago, so instead of being attentive like usual, she found herself staring out the window for the majority of the day. The lack of challenge was beneficial in its own way: at least she could use History of Magic to catch up on sleep. Since she got here, she was lucky to squeeze two or three hours a night in.

Potions wasn't horrible but it certainly didn't make things better. She had expected Snape to be snide with her, but instead he opted to ignore her completely. Harry and Ron thought her the luckiest girl on the planet. Even Draco had noticed, and he would occasionally turn and frown curiously at her. Last year it would have been a blessing, this year it made her antsy. Hermione had finished the smaller book two more times. The runes and wards one she was currently on her second look through. She had this wealth of knowledge at her fingertips, but no way to use it. She wanted a fresh set of eyes to look over it, and Snape was her only option. _Fat chance_, she thought sullenly. _ You can't give an opinion to someone who doesn't exist_.

By Friday of the third week, she was so worked up from everything that had been going on, coupled with her obvious lack of sleep, that she was ready to fire at the drop of a hat. Not to mention that no one seemed to remember that today was her birthday. She had come to expect it of Harry and Ron, as they were boys, but Ginny rarely was behind on birthday celebrations and was always sure to keep the boys posted. In her defence, she had looked a little overloaded herself this year, but it didn't make Hermione feel any better. Granted, she could have mentioned it, but something held her back and in the end she decided she'd just celebrate it herself. In fact, maybe she would just gather some light reading, claim sickness, and disappear into her room for the entire weekend.

That evening before her rounds, she returned to the Potions classroom. She knocked and entered, but other than his customary "Enter", she still didn't exist. She felt irritation swell up inside her. By the time she got to his desk she was practically summoning storm clouds.

She threw the book he had given her on his desk unintentionally hard, which knocked vials and papers in every direction. She could tell she had gone too far by the way he abruptly shot from his desk, glaring. This time she did not back down from his glare.

"How dare-"

"I don't know what Tom ordered you to do, but you obviously don't like it," she snapped. "And I apologize for being such a hindrance, but unless you've been ordered to kill me, I don't see what the issue is. I have done _nothing_ to warrant your attitude!" When she realized she had been yelling by the end she blinked, exhausted and surprised at her outburst. More calmly, she continued: "I'm being bombarded beyond what I can handle from all sides here, Professor. Please don't take it on yourself to contribute." With that she turned and left a speechless Snape standing at his desk just staring at her. He was probably just noticing now that she was barely standing. For someone who loved school and loved taking on more than a normal person could handle, she certainly looked like she was about to buckle over what seemed like nothing.

After she left, she decided she would just do quick rounds for the dungeons and be done with it for the night. She wasn't sure if Draco even did them, but if he did she never saw him. She didn't blame him though, she had half a mind to skip them altogether now and again. She passed the stairways that returned to the basement level and stared up them longingly. _Almost there, tub_. Then again, maybe she would just crawl into bed and crash.

The cold stone walls gave her some comfort, so she ran her fingers along them lightly during her trek. The dungeons was by far the most winding and secluded area in Hogwarts, and therefor it was the most popular to hang out in after curfew. Your chances of being caught were slim to none if you were being careful.

Her wand slipped out of her sleeve and into her hand, and she automatically took a defensive position when she realized she was not in an ideal spot. As soon as you took the dungeon steps, there were a couple of options. Left led to the Potions class, where she had just been, and was a fairly safe spot since no one dared engage in anything outside of Snape's domain. Right was a lot more winding and lengthy, and eventually lead to the Slytherin common room. She hadn't meant to patrol this far into the right side, yet here she was and the scuffle of feet around the corner sent her scuttling back into the nearest room instead of pursuing whoever was out after curfew.

"Oi! Goyle. Did you see where that filthy mudblood went?" It was Crabbe's voice, and she immediately tightened her grip on her wand. Leaning against the wall, she tried to push down the panic that swelled inside of her. _What do I do?_

_Run, child_.

She spun around, looking for where the voice would have come from, but there was nothing. She touched the wall and looked at it curiously. Had that been Hogwarts warning her? But-

She had no time to dwell on the matter further, the classroom door swung open. Crabbe and Goyle strode in, obviously not expecting her in here but checking nonetheless. With a flick of her wand she sent the majority of the desks flying towards the two unsuspecting boys and took her chance to scramble out the door. It took them less time than she had hoped to untangle themselves and come after her. She wasn't sure what their intention was, but it didn't feel like she wanted to stick around. A few more turns and she'd be at the stairs. They wouldn't pursue her past there, would they?

"Glaceus!" The floor in front of her turned to ice, and she gave a cry of frustration as she immediately slipped and fell. She rolled out of the way when she heard one of them scream a reducto, which caused half the wall to blow apart. The aftershock caused her slam against the other side forcefully, and she was pretty sure she saw stars for a minute. Could this month get any worse?_ Honestly_.

With no time to lose, she gripped her wand and scrambled away from the ice. Her chance to escape was gone. No matter how she chose to cross the ice path, it would take too long and make her an easy target. Crabbe and Goyle were too close to miss a target who had her attention elsewhere.

She started countering the onslaught of curses and hexes that came flying towards her. With two against one she didn't have time to consider what and wasn't appropriate, and between the three of them she lost track of how many illegal curses went bouncing around the hall. She threw herself to the ground and rolled just in time as the cruciatus rebounded and fizzled out on the floor where she had just been laying.

"_Furnunculus_!" Both boys were pretty efficient in their dodges, so she wasn't surprised when her curse missed, but nearly shouted in triumph when it rebounded off Crabbe's shield awkwardly and nicked Goyle's arm. It was enough to make him howl and fall back a couple of strides before he slumped to ground, clutching the area that was beginning to break out into painful boils.

"Expelliarmus!" cried Crabbe in a moment of terror. She cursed as her wand flew out of her hand, but did not try to retrieve it. Instead she picked up a good sized rock, and after breaking into a sprint she hurled it with a howl of rage.

Crabbe went down like a sack of bricks, blood splattering on her due to her proximity, but she did not stop. Goyle was still clutching at his arm, but he had seen Crabbe fall so he had stood to rejoin the assault. She did not stop or change course, but with another battle cry she slammed into him. They went down in a tangle of limbs, Goyle crying out in further pain and his wand skittering across the floor out of reach. Still unarmed herself, she didn't waste time, and opted to just beat him senseless muggle style.

Of course it couldn't have been_ just_ Professor Snape that came flying around the corner. McGonagall was on his heels, wringing her hands and muttering in worry until she saw the scene before her.

Hermione had obviously not noticed the splash of fire that signified someone had finally come to her rescue, or just didn't care, because she still stood half kneeled over Goyle, the collar of his uniform still clutched in one hand, while the other was pulled back for another hit. Curses that had landed or nicked her accounted for some of the blood, she guessed, but her attackers accounted for the rest.

On seeing the professors, she dropped the Slytherin boy unceremoniously which caused a painful crack to echo through the hall as his head hit stone.

"Granger!" Malfoy pushed past Snape and McGonagall, concern etched across his features. Obviously he had known about the attack, and though he talked big otherwise, did not actually wish her any harm. His eyes widened as he took in the scene, and he just stared at her dumbly as he muttered: "See you've got it taken care of then. Well, that's good. I'll just be leaving." He rubbed his jaw in memory of Hermione's right hook, but as he backtracked from the scene, eyes wide and still drinking in the sight, Snape snagged him by the collar.

"You will be giving a statement, Mr Malfoy. Unless you want to see Miss Granger unrightfully expelled for this." All three of them looked disbelievingly at Snape. How could this end in anything other expulsion, even if Hermione was in the right?

After Crabbe and Goyle were sent to the infirmary with direct orders that the Ministry would be coming to collect them, the four of them headed to the Headmaster's office. Hermione thought it was a little unfair that her wounds were not being treated just because she was the last one standing.

"Dear Merlin, Severus, could you not have cleaned the girl up before you came here?" Hermione shot a look at Snape. If she was agreeing with the Headmaster then clearly the Potions Professor was being a little unfair. Minerva just kept muttering: "Violence! And of such caliber! In Hogwarts!" She was beginning to sound like a broken record.

The room turned silent though as Draco quietly confessed to the Headmaster how Crabbe and Goyle had bragged that they were going to lay in wait and bag themselves a mudblood for Voldemort. They were not in good favour, and from what he had heard, were desperate to prove themselves. Severus backed him in this assessment, saying that the Crabbe and Goyle families had been dishonoured for previous infractions.

All three wands were presented, and Hermione wondered if Crabbe had actually used a simple disarming spell in the event that this would happen. She was thankful that her last spell had been a boil curse and not something worse. Sure, it would be frowned upon, but in comparison to Goyle's attempt at the cruciatus? Dismissable.

She found it slightly amusing that Goyle's crucio would be the spell to save her hide. It was a shame that Crabbe had only cast a disarming spell as his last, but then again she should count her lucky stars. She could have been caught with worse too.

Kingsley came flying through the floo along with Tonks, and whereas Kingsley was all business the Metamorphmagus rushed the Hermione and began inspecting the damage. "Blimey Hermione! You look like you just killed someone!"

"She almost did, Tonks. Now sit down." The story was retold again and she slumped in her chair. Did everyone just assume she had just completely overpowered two boys? Neither one of them may have shown much proficiency in the past, but Crabbe especially was no slouch when it came to unfriendly duels. Tonks was examining her closely, and when the story was done, raised her hand as if she wanted to speak.

"So let me get this right. Crabbe and Goyle juniors attacked Hermione, she fought back and won, and because of that she has to sit here and bleed all over the chair while the two people who actually started this fight get healed? Sounds a bit barmy to me..."

Everyone's attention shot straight to her, as though they hadn't thought that maybe all the blood wasn't Slytherin prior to this.

"I'm fine Tonks, it looks a lot worse than it is. A few scrapes and bruises if anything," she lied. She chanced a look at Snape, who was looking at her strangely. _Hurry, _she tried her best to project to him.

He must have gotten the message one way or another. No one questioned the matter, Snape was obviously done wasting his time and wanted to get out of there. After a few statements were officially taken from her and Draco, everyone went their separate ways, but not before Tonks swept her up into a hug and wished her a happy birthday. Hermione made sure to walk evenly until she at least made it around the corner. One of them, she suspected Crabbe, had not missed in all his spells. Because he had only gashed open her forearm, she figured it would be easily taken care of later. In the Headmaster's office she had realized that something was wrong with it.

She took a few staggering steps down the corridor before she realized that whatever was going on had started to speed up. The adrenaline kick she had been riding was almost gone. Snape caught her just before she dropped face first onto the stone floor.

He burst into his class with her still dangling from his arms and lay her on a table. He looked at her hand that had been clamped tightly to her wound, and pried her fingers away just to curse at it. She had never seen him in such a panic over something so small, but then again was Professor Snape even proficient in any sort of healing? He left her and disappeared into his private storeroom. She heard him rummaging through bottles. His lack of finesse was so unlike him. When she was just beginning to feel her eyelids droop, a swift smack to the face brought her reeling._ What the hell_? He glared down at her, his tone clear: _Do not fall asleep_. This was the first time in the evening she considered that maybe it was worse than she thought.

"Professor, can I come in?"

"Not now Draco," he began, but it was too late. Draco was not used to being denied entry at any time, so he had just assumed it was fine, especially since it was the classroom. It was clear Hermione wasn't expected to be there, because when he saw her he stopped dead in his tracks. Professor Snape huffed, but didn't stop his work to chastise the boy.

"What's going on?"

"Draco, since you're here, sit down and be silent until I am finished. If I ask you to do anything else, do it immediately, but do not speak, do not ask questions, do not even breathe heavily. If you distract me and I use even a single drop more than what is needed, I will find myself trying to explain to the Headmaster why Miss Granger is laying dead in my classroom." The last bit should have made her worry, but she was too busy feeling sleepy and disorientated. Death didn't seem to be something she wanted to address at the moment. It was still her birthday. It would suck to die on it.

After a few minutes, she felt herself begin to drift off again. Severus winced and beckoned Draco to him.

"I didn't want to use this one," he muttered, then beckoned his godson over while casting a silencing charm. "Hold her shoulders, Draco, this is going to help her, but it's also going to bring her out of shock."

He disappeared from her view momentarily, and when he came back Draco looked as if he may faint. She felt her head being tilted back and three drops of something running down her tongue. He shoved some sort of leather strap in her mouth roughly, and she had half a mind to complain but never got the chance. The potion's effect was almost immediate, and the first thing it did was make it feel like someone lit her arm on fire, which spread through her entire right side. She tried to come flying off the table, but Draco was stronger than he looked and held her down successfully. She almost spit the strip of leather out, but when Severus held her jaw shut she took his advice and bit down as hard as she could. It didn't do much.

When he trusted that she was done trying to escape, he worked quickly. She had never seen the Potions Professor look so exhausted as he dabbed and dripped unknown substances around the entry of her wound. Sometimes they made her scream into the bit more than she already was, other times it sent a momentary flash of relief through her body. She held on the best she could. It was almost if he could sense the moments she was close to losing consciousness, because at these times he would just shoot her a look. He had her arm dangle over the edge of the bed as he had her swallow something else, and though she was barely conscious she could see that whatever came racing out of her arm looked like ink. _Poison_, she realized. Severus waited until the blood seeped red again, and began to use more of his potions and herbs on the actual wound. She watched it knit itself back together with impossible speed.

He had just stoppered another vial when she began to gag, and with surprising speed he waved Draco away and pushed her on her side. She threw up into a cauldron that he had grabbed without a moment's hesitation, and let her roll back afterwards. Whatever she had expelled caused him to sigh in relief. _That's a good sign, right_? She felt her eyes begin to drift close again.

Just as she was about to mentally shake herself awake, he turned to her like he had been all night, but this time just murmured, "Go ahead." She didn't even care that she was sweaty and covered in a grime. She didn't care that she was laying on a Potions lab table. Hermione let unconsciousness sweep over her like sweet relief. Now that the crisis was over, Severus was more willing to offer Draco the answers he wanted.

"She collapsed in the hallway around the corner," he offered. "I doubt she even realized how severe her wound was, or would get."

"What do you mean, get?"

"Have you ever heard of sectumbovis, Draco?"

"No, sir, I haven't."

"Good. It's a curse that shouldn't even exist. It cuts the victim and injects just a small portion of venom into the bloodstream. It's a very cruel spell."

"But Granger is going to fine, so it's better than the killing curse, right?" Severus shot him a sharp look.

"She was very lucky. I've seen the spell cleave people in two. For those who did not die from blood loss or some other means, they suffered the most excruciating deaths I've ever seen. Miss Granger handled the pain very well," he watched what little colour Draco had left in his face drain at the memory of Granger flailing around the desk. He had barely been able to hold her. "She was very lucky," Severus repeated, snapping Draco back to the present. "I've never succeeded in removing the poison. If she had been hit with the full fledged spell and not some half ass attempt from an imbecile, she would have died. She came very close regardless, especially with the side trip to the Headmaster's office."

After she was cleaned up, he wrapped her wound and cast a couple spells around it to repel dirt and moisture.

"But why wouldn't she have said anything? Madam Pomphrey would have healed her up, and if she had said something when we-"

"Perhaps Miss Granger didn't want anyone to pry further than they already have. I don't think I need to tell you that you shall speak of this to no one."

"But-"

"_NO BUTS_," he roared. His godson shot back a few steps, obviously surprised. "I'm sorry, Draco, but this matter is closed. We will not discuss it further, and you will not discuss it outside of this room, unless it is with Miss Granger. Alone. Your testimony was the only thing that didn't get her expelled. To her that is probably the equivalent of saving her life, and I'm sure she'll be very grateful." When Snape lifted her off the table gingerly, Draco helped by holding the doors open and escorting the professor back to their quarters. She was tucked in like one would a child, and Snape left without another word. Draco found himself leaning against the doorframe afterwards, scowl fixed upon his face.

He hated everything Hermione Granger stood for, and on top of it all he despised her talent, her friends, _and_ her house. Tonight she had given him more reasons to dislike her. Maybe it was how she had made him run for her, or how the throbbing fear in his gut was only fading now. When they had found her in the dungeons, the hallway had been totalled. They were too late, he had thought, but when he pushed through the professors blocking his way, he had found her. Her clothes were ripped, her hair was tangled, and blood was everywhere, but one thing was clear. She didn't help. The moment their eyes locked he felt as though he would never see anything more dangerous and beautiful, and he hated it. It was if Hermione Granger had never existed before now, as if his entire opinion of her had been shot out of the water. What had happened to the naive and annoying brown noser who had no redeeming qualities?

Now she looked frail and broken, and though it was something he had wished for all his life, now he just wanted her to open her eyes and wail something stupid like, "_Oh no! I've missed study group_!" _Stupid Granger,_ he thought. _Stupid mudblood_. She had confused an opinion he had harboured for over six years, and to him that was unforgivable. He gave her one last scathing look before pulling the door shut. He didn't even notice that his uncle was still standing in the portrait, watching him quietly.

* * *

><p>It took a few minutes before she could remember why she felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to her body. She recognized her room, but who had brought her here? Professor Snape? Last thing she could remember was Snape catching her in the corridor, but anything after that drew a blank.<p>

"You're awake." If she had been in better condition, Hermione would have probably jumped a good two or three meters off the bed. Draco was coming in, looking a little nervous, but had a tray of something that smelled absolutely ravishing. "Uncle said you would wake up this afternoon..." Draco looked as if he wasn't sure if he should continue. In the end he offered her a small smile. "He also said that if you didn't we were going to have to hide your body before classes tomorrow. I think he was kidding."

"Luckily we won't find out. Professor Snape isn't exactly the joke cracking type." She stopped. "Classes tomorrow? But..."

"Today's Sunday, you've been asleep for almost two days." He approached her and offered her the tray, which she gratefully took after sitting up. She removed the lid and almost moaned in delight. Apparently not all of the house elves hated her. A ginormous bowl of tomato bisque and nearly half a loaf of french bread presented itself. Even Draco looked a little taken aback as he pulled up a chair and sat down uncomfortably.

"Thank you," she said, between bites. "I appreciate what you did. It couldn't have been easy." He looked at her, stunned.

"You could have died! You almost did!" She looked at him, shocked at his blatant display of upset. She glanced a look at her arm. So there had been something between hallway and bed then, and Draco was aware of it. She wasn't about to admit she couldn't remember though.

"Why do you even care, Draco? I've always been a hinderance to you, and what's one less muggleborn out of your hair?" He said nothing, and after sitting in awkward silence for several minutes, he rose quietly and left the room. She wondered if she had offended him or just given him something to think about. She really shouldn't encourage him when she was unarmed and bedridden. Hopefully his conscience would win out and he wouldn't return to finish her off. After she was done her meal, the tray vanished back to the kitchens, and she noticed for the first time that her beside table was littered with gifts and trinkets. It was enough to lift her spirits substantially, and she immediately started to open them.

Ginny had sent her a sneakoscope, which made her chuckle. She'd never be able to use it - the damn thing would never stop. Harry and Ron sent her some chocolate frogs along with the notes from classes. Unfortunately their note taking was as abysmal as always, but it was the thought that counted, she guessed. Remus had sent her a box of cauldron cakes with a get well card, and he briefly wished her a happy birthday. He talked about how disappointed he was that Hogwarts was supposed to be a safe school, but it seemed they couldn't even count on that anymore. She sighed in agreement. She had been careless. Tom couldn't very well issue orders not to harm her.

There was a half dozen deluxe sugar quills sitting on her table, and curiously she picked them up to read the note.

_Even though it sucked, Happy Birthday._

There was no name on it, so she assumed the sender didn't want to know who he or she was. She was still mulling over it when there was a knock on her door. Draco could come and go since they shared a common room, and she was sure the Headmaster could drop in at will if he wanted to. Otherwise, she wasn't taking visitors so she didn't know who it could be. Before she could answer, Professor Snape let himself in and sat where Draco had been no more than thirty minutes ago. They sat in silence for a minute, her picking at the bow on her sugar quills, and him scrutinizing her like always.

"Gregory was expelled and sent to Azkaban," he offered.

"And Crabbe?" Fear bubbled up inside her, and she swallowed hard. _Expelliarmus_. It was the last spell he had cast, she remembered that much. Would the fact that he attacked her be enough to expel him, or would they have to let it slide like all of the other infractions over the years?"

"Withdrew."

"_Withdrew_?"

"He was given a strong warning and detentions that would have lasted until graduation, but he was not expelled. Despite this, he decided it was in his best interest to withdraw from Hogwarts." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Meaning?"

"He received summons from Tom. It was taken care of, and probably not in the way he expected." She sat is shocked silence.

"And me?"

"And _you_," he emphasized, "Need not wander that area of the dungeon in the future." Professor Snape looked as though he had just remembered something, and withdrew a package from his robes.

"Before I forget, Tom sent you something, but naturally I could not put it on your bedside table seeing as Albus loves to rummage through people's gifts while they're unconscious." He handed her a box, and she opened it. Inside was a wand. It was short and thin, but looked just like her original. She looked up at Snape questionably. "Custom made. 8 inches. Vine. Dragon heartstring core. A sister strand to the wand you currently have, in fact."

"I don't understand. I have a wand, _this_ wand, which is a more appropriate length. What do I need this for?" Her eyes shot to her bedside to make sure that her wand was, in fact, still there and in one piece.

"_Unregistered_." It was all he had to say. She unfolded the ankle sheath it came with. _Oh_. "Naturally it will not work quite as well, but it's handy for if you need to be casting something you shouldn't, or if you find yourself disarmed. This way you won't find yourself engaging in physical combat." He gave her a stern look. Apparently using part of the castle wall to bash someone's head in was looked down on by both the Hogwart's staff _and_ the Death Eaters.

"It is your birthday gift. From Tom." At her surprised look, he looked taken aback. "You did not think he would take such an opportunity to bestow such a necessity?" When he said it like that, it almost made it sound like a burden. She sulked unintentionally until he held out a small drawstring bag to her. After emptying an unpolished sapphire into her hand, she looked up at Snape questioningly. "You only need to ask it for help, and it will land you at Malfoy Manor. They have already given their permission. It is a variation of the portkey, but unlike portkeys this can be used inside of Hogwarts."

"Is this another birthday gift?"

"No. _That_ is a request not to get yourself into anymore trouble." She stifled the laughter that threatened to escape at the way he had said it. The stone was obviously from him, she didn't need to pry to find that out. Before he could leave she held out the note that had come with her sugar quills silently.

"That is Draco's writing," he identified, then noticed afterwards it had come with a gift. He looked perplexed for a moment before examining the note some more. "He was quite worried about you, you know. Then again, he knew Crabbe and Goyle best, so I suppose it was reason enough to worry regardless of their target."

He left her alone, clutching her sugar quills and thanking the heavens that Draco had a conscience. Who knows what could have happened without him. She could have been the one expelled and sitting in Azkaban. Sometimes being stopped was worth as much as being saved, she realized. _Thank you, Draco_.

* * *

><p>The following week, Harry and Ron had decided that they would be her protectors. As far as they were concerned, Tom Riddle had sent his followers to kidnap her, and if it wasn't for Professor McGonagall, she would have been in grave trouble. The only problem was that their definition of trouble differed from hers. Apparently the boys had no idea she had the upper hand by the time help arrived.<p>

As usual, no one bothered asking her what happened, and seemed quite content in making up their own version of the story. Some stories had an unsuspecting Head Girl lured into the dungeons, others had her going down for some scandalous late night rendezvous. In any case, the stories got more wild and ridiculous as the week went on, and her constant disputes and frustrations were ignored.

The only house that wasn't gossiping, was the Slytherins, and the Slytherins were the only house who knew anything at all. For instance, they all knew that Draco had come forward. They were aware that Hermione hadn't gone down quietly. If they were curious if Draco saved her, or she saved herself, none of them asked. The fact that Draco and Professor Snape had been involved that night stayed a secret. Their lips were sealed.

Finally escaping from Harry and Ron prior to lunch on Wednesday, she found herself standing in that same hallway. The wall had been repaired and scourged of any evidence, so after a moment she continued her way to the classroom she had ducked into. When she pressed her hand against the wall, Hermione didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't the Baron's voice. It nearly sent her skittering up the wall.

"He has resealed the breach already." The Bloody Baron was floating nearby, watching her with some interest.

"What do you mean?"

"Did you read the books, child?" Suddenly she was back at Flourish and Blott's, remembering how Theodore had almost seemed possessed when he had handed her the two mysterious books. Books that she had mulled over in her spare time, which wasn't much, for the first couple weeks at school. Why was she given the runes and wards guide to Hogwarts? She couldn't very well apply her knowledge by messing around with the very fundamentals of the castle. Even she had limits. He floated nearer, not needing her verbal answer, and continued. "We want you to use that book to release Hogwarts."

"Release her? So it's true, she's trapped?"

"Albus Dumbledore, shortly after his promotion to Headmaster, was having problems with a prior graduate. This particular student had taken the time to befriend certain creatures, including the castle herself. When the boy started causing problems, Albus realized that the castle would not side exclusively with him and would let Tom Riddle come and go as he pleased, so he took precautions against this. When he imprisoned her, the spirits of the castle and the creatures in the forest were enraged, but there is little we can do. So little, in fact, that some creatures in the Forbidden Forest have just ceased telling their young altogether. So many now are unaware of the reason for discord, and only know that it exists. As for the ghosts, well... we have been forbidden to speak of the matter by Albus himself."

"So then why are you telling me? How do you know I will not go straight to the Headmaster and tell him what you've just told me?" The Baron looked at her skeptically.

"We have kept your secret, Hermione Riddle, so in turn I would ask you keep ours." She stared at him in shock, though it seemed her question had implied that she did not want to hear his plea, and he turned to leave her.

"Wait! I was curious, not threatening you. Please forgive me." The ghost turned back, an almost hopeful look on his normally serious face. "What is it you want me to do exactly?"

"Albus may chain the castle, but he does not control her entirely. If you go to the Room of Requirement and will it, a passage will open for you. When you arrive, you will find a room that has only allowed one mortal to enter for the last thousand years."

"And there I will...?"

"The room is truly the heart of the castle – or a control room, if you please. Albus too, was a very charismatic individual, and befriended the castle. Despite warnings from Rowena and the Architect prior to their passings, she let him into that room. Once he was in, it was all over. He made sure to disable her enough the first time to allow himself back, and after that cast runes and wards to enslave her entirely.

"And you don't think he'll notice if I suddenly go in there and change everything he's done?"

"No. It seems that every decade the chains weaken and need to be refortified. The time approaches again, but we had hoped you would put a stop to it. He has succeeded three times before this. It takes both time and energy, so he will leave it until necessary to complete. Forty years of unopposed enslavement is enough to make even the most cautious man slip up now and again. You will go to this room and remove the rune that allows him to enter the room at will, I guarantee they are close enough to fading that he will think the castle has done it. She has done little things in the past in rebellion, but not much more. He will be upset, but unattended, the wards will last until next year, he knows this much. It will give him enough to time to put an end to this war."

"I have a lot to do this year, even without the project that is surely expected of me."

"We have taken this into account, and with your schooling it will take several months for you to complete. The castle will speak to you further, but I can guarantee that she will make it worth your while. Meet us at the Room of Requirement, and you may decide after."

One secret winding staircase, three staircases later, and at the very far end of the seventh floor corridor, she stood in front of the room of requirement. On her way here, only Ron and Harry had tried to stop her, and she had just yelled "Library!" at them and took off. If they thought it odd she was headed upwards from the fifth floor at the time, when the library was on the third and fourth, they said nothing. Making sure no one looked, she closed her eyes and touched the wall.

_Hogwarts_, she thought clearly, _let me see what he's done to you_.

The wall immediately formed a doorway that looked nothing more than just another abandoned classroom. She pushed it open, and stepped inside, the entrance closing and locking immediately. She suspected the doorway from the outside had vanished. The heart of the castle was breathtaking. The room itself was an octagon, and was beautiful and mysterious. The floor was laid in dark mahogany and rumbled so deeply she felt it more than heard it. She wondered what lay beneath – was it mechanical, magical, or a bit of both?

She noted the room had a dusty, unused scent, but not uncomfortably so, or anymore than the library. The three far walls from the door were made of slate and they were at least four times her height before returning to stone and climbing to meet the large, solitary window above. An enchantment must have been laid, for it was made of iron bars and nothing else. It didn't look like rain or stray animals had been in here, so something was warding them off. Hermione's eyes turned back to the boards.

She looked at the runes that were scripted through every one without pause. The book she had_ was_ a guide after all. It was a perfect map to show where each rune and enchantment should be, and though she didn't know the book off by heart she could already see the problem.

The original runes had been cast in silver. Bright red seals had been placed _over_ most of them, some had all together been erased, and others had just been altered. She noticed the seals flickered a little. They must be the ones that were failing. Despite the fact that she knew what she was looking at was enslaving the castle, it was somehow beautiful and captivating. She stepped forward and lay a hand on the smooth surface of it all.

* * *

><p>Not that he had been looking, but he did note Hermione Granger's absence at both lunch and dinner that day. When she burst into his office as if an army of centaurs were dead on her heels. Professor Snape was about to make a scathing remark before he saw the look on her face. She was pale, if not shaking. All she kept muttering is, "<em>He wasn't kidding. Dear spirits, he wasn't kidding<em>."

He ushered her out of the classroom and back into his office, where he summoned a cup of tea, poured a healthy shot of firewhiskey into it, and pushed it towards her. She shakily raised the cup up to her lips several times as they sat in silence. It was clear she wasn't ready to say anything, so he pulled a stack of papers and marked for the better part of an hour. He could feel her magic crackling around her in disarray. He wondered if she had touched something she shouldn't have.

"Baron came to me," she finally muttered, pushing the empty cup away from her. "Albus has done something – something unforgivable."

"_Really_." His tone was clearly disbelieving. _If_ Baron had an issue with Albus, why would he go to Hermione. A Gryffindor, nonetheless.

"He's imprisoned Hogwarts." Hermione had mixed feelings on the matter even now, but when the Baron said it would be worth her while, curiosity had won out. The heart of the castle was the only place Hogwarts could speak freely to her, and she had spent hours up in that room engaging in a lengthy discussion on how things would be done. At Severus' stare she told him what she was asked to do.

"Before you continue, tell me that your reward for taking on such a task has been worked out." Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times. It looked like the answer was trying to knock the wind out of her. "He may not murder you, but there are far worse things than death if Albus were to catch you doing this. Tell me you've discussed a reward that compensates you not only for your work, but the risk you're taking." She nodded, still shaking a little.

"In the past she has protected herself, and in extension, the people who reside here. Part of her has always answered to the Headmaster, strictly due to the requests of Rowena Ravenclaw and the Architect. Her only request is to release her and keep her released. If I succeed at this task..."

"Hermione," he whispered, suspecting that he already knew the answer. "What did the castle offer you?"

"As soon as I start dropping the bindings entirely, Albus will know what's happening, so we've agreed to complete them up until the last rune until my father comes to take the castle. In return, she has agreed to allow us entry. Just think, Professor, no wards to disable, no defences to crash through. Our only obstacle will be the Order! If I succeed in the task, it should take no more than half an hour to restore the castle entirely to her original state. I have until the new year to prepare myself. There's a few weeks following Yuletide, when the shields are the weakest but Albus has not yet reenforced them."

"Your final project will be with me," he suddenly proposed. Professor Snape rarely accepted students outside of Slytherin house, so she couldn't help but stare at him in shock. "I obviously cannot decline Draco without looking highly suspicious, but Albus is constantly telling me I cannot just take Slytherins. I doubt this year will be much different. I have no doubt that if you express interest in Potions for your extracurricular, than Minerva will also be on my case. I will accept both you and Draco."

"Professor, as happy as I would be to have a Potions project, it's one of the most gruelling subjects there is. The time I would need to invest in it..."

"Is inconsequential. Complete the task given to you. Remember that there's a war approaching – if the Order wins you will probably die. If we win, whatever you want to do afterwards will probably look fondly on the fact that you rewired the entire castle. In comparison, the project is a joke, especially since most of them end up as theories anyway."

"What about progress meetings?"

"They will be an ideal time to hone your skills at deception." Severus poured them both a cup of tea this time, emptied the rest of the bottle between the two and pushed her cup back towards her. After he took a sip, he stared down into the amber liquid, swirling it around a bit. "Tom is going to be extremely pleased with you." He had been kind to her before, but this was the first time that Severus had used such a genuine tone. It was the one she heard, and always wished would be directed at her, but never was. She couldn't help but smile into her cup.

* * *

><p>When she approached Dumbledore with her request form the next day, he didn't look at it right away, just expressed his delight that she had decided to apply for an extra project after all. Later, Snape would stare in distaste and point out that Granger had only picked Potions. He made snarky arguments, degraded her to the point she'd be in tears if she heard, and hesitated for a full two days until he finally agreed during dinner one night. Disregarding the fact that they had basically hounded him for the full two days, the shock that ensued was priceless. Minerva looked ecstatic, but Albus quickly looked concerned. He knew that the Headmaster didn't like to misjudge situations, so he half expected his employer to dispute his acceptance and demand an explanation. Finally, when Severus was beginning to sweat a little, Albus reached his conclusion. A rule was set that Severus was forbidden to torture Miss Granger into doing menial first year detention tasks for the entire year. He accepted, and made sure to sound extremely put out and mutter that her project would require her to do <em>some<em> at least. This reassured the Headmaster that he had successfully figured out_ why_ Severus had accepted her, and he looked extremely pleased with himself.

_Go ahead, _he thought_. Congratulate yourself while you think you have it all worked out. She's going to turn your beloved castle on you, old man, and you aren't even going to see it coming._

* * *

><p>AN: Well, another chapter done and posted. Next week we'll see... oh I'm not going to bother to tell you guys, you'll just have to wait and see! But at least things are starting looking up for Hermione. Thank you again everyone for the reviews, they definitely keep me on track here.


	4. Partners in Crime

CHAPTER 4  
>Partners in Crime<p>

* * *

><p>Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch. Stupid, barmy sport. The boys seemed to think that one day she would just go to a game and have a revelation. <em>Oh, Quidditch really is amazing!<em> She thought in a mock tone. _Thank you Harry, thank you Ron, for showing me the error of my ways_.

On the bright side, Malfoy was somewhere that wasn't here, so she threw herself on the sofa with a sigh of relief and kicked her feet up. The end of September had been much more promising than the start, though peace and quiet was still a high sought after commodity for her. Even now a student could come banging on the portrait door, wanting help, and she'd be obligated to answer. Her 'Potions Project' was a blessing in disguise. No matter how dire the circumstance, no one was going to be coming to the dungeons. Not anymore.

She hadn't even completed her first night in peace. First came a second year, then a first year, and lastly a fourth year. All Gryffindors. All apparently courageous enough to brave a trip down to the dungeons over trivial matters. When the third student knocked, he entered immediately after, motioning at Hermione to come and meet him in the hallway. She had been ready to close her book to deal with the issue when Snape stopped her with a look. He slid his glare to the boy, Micheal (if Hermione remembered correctly), and held him in place also.

"Miss Granger is preoccupied at the moment, but if you need immediate assistance I'd be willing to help you." The offer coming from anyone else would have been inviting, but the way Snape laced his fingers and narrowed his eyes, the meaning was much different. It said: if you even think of coming to me, and it's not life or death, I'll take so many points your house will be in the negative for the next century.

The boy only got half the hint though, and instead opted to stutter. "I'll be just a minute, sir. Then Hermione can go back to-" He was interrupted when Snape shot up from his desk, and in what seemed a single stride, crossed the room and towered over what suddenly became a very small Gryffindor.

"It is apparent you are not aware what preoccupied means. Is there a reason why I may not help you?"

"I didn't want to bother-"

"Mr. Malfoy? Myself? Ah, so Miss Granger's time is less valuable than everyone else's. So much, in fact, that preoccupied does not apply to her." He grabbed the boy by the shoulders and began to steer him towards the door. "I will not have insufferable, lazy children trouncing through my classroom, distracting students that are already taking up my time. Thirty points from Gryffindor, and when you are explaining to your house why you've lost those points, be sure they understand so I am not forced to have this conversation again." He directed a withering glare at her as he shoved Micheal out and slammed the door. Draco did not look up, but she could see he was amused. He looked even more amused when Snape began to chastise her: she was too soft, the Gryffindors had become reliant on her. She couldn't argue, so in the end, she had just grunted her agreement and went back to her book.

Hermione peeled an eye open when she noticed her foot was propped on something that wasn't coffee table. _Oh, Draco forgot his Herbology textbook_, she realized. She was about to go back to relaxing, but grinned and shot forward to snatch it. Too bad for Draco that the Herbology book was about a hundred pages thicker than whatever was sitting in front of her.

"Reading something secret, Malfoy? Possibly illegal?" Despite the fact that her and Draco had called a truce of sorts, they left nothing in the shared common room. Not even their textbooks. It was surprising that he had been the first one to slip up, and even more so with something that was obviously not meant to be seen. _Back to the dungeons, Slytherin_._ You're becoming complacent!_

In Malfoy's favour it was well done and she wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for her anal retentiveness about books. As she turned it over in her hands, she decided to leave the enchantment and just take a peek at the content. She didn't need to turn more than two pages to identify the book. What a disappointment. Malfoy wasn't reading anything illegal, or dark, or really anything that needed to be kept a secret. They had this book at Grimmauld. Your Garden: Dispelling Pesky Greens. Hermione sighed.

It was the first of October when the disappointment turned to interest. She was coming out of Greenhouse 3 when she saw him. Draco was crouched over one of the outdoor gardens, examining the plants with the same book laying open beside him. Peculiar, those plants were surely not meant to be disposed of. In fact, the medical stores would be sorely lacking if... _Oh_. It was small, but Draco must have finally received a mission. She couldn't help but approach him.

"Brushing up on your Herbology, Draco?" He spun around, eyes darting to check for the two that always seemed attached to her hip.

"They're not connected, you know. I do have my own two legs, my own mind, my own will-"

"_I get it_. What do you want?"

"Well, I'm nosy. I'm curious how long it's going to take you to figure something out."

"What do you mean?" Hermione was treading on thin ice now. He knew she knew something, and unless she kept him on his toes or proposed something interesting, she was going to get involved in a duel where a whole lot of Obliviates would be cast her way. _Blast her curiosity!_

"Well, first: You're reading a book that's thinner than the Herbology book. Don't- I already know what it is, you left it on the table one day. Second: You're hovering over plants that have nothing to do with that book, which means you're probably not weeding, but sabotaging. And here I thought maybe you just had a green thumb and were embarrassed about it." She saw his hand inch towards his wand. "You're not stupid Draco, but you're lucky it's just me catching you and not Dumbledore or Sprout."

"I have to do this."

"Are you talking about poisoning the plants or obliviating me?" His eyes narrowed, and she felt her time running out. "I can help you with the plants, if you let me. You really don't need to curse me. No, _really_. Put your wand down or this is going to turn messy. I know you don't particularly like me, but I really have nothing against you, and probably everything against this school. Does that put us on even footing?"

"That's absurd. You're part of the Order." He said it with such conviction, but it didn't match the concerned look in his eyes. He doesn't want to hurt me, she realized. For some reason, I am no longer the enemy. She frowned, and held out her hands to show she had no intent on fighting back. Not unless he threw the first spell, of course. Then it would be a free for all.

"I am _not_ part of the Order. Please, Draco, let me help you?" Finally, as if it hurt him to do so, he dropped his wand and turned back to the garden, resigned.

"My main focus is the dittany. It has a very small window in which it must be planted, and then it must survive the winter. Harvest isn't until the first day of spring. It's rare, it's useful to the Order, and it takes a long time to mature. It will be sorely missed."

"So what's the problem?"

"I can't leave my magical signature, which means I can't cast, and can't use a potion. I don't know how to do it." Hermione crouched beside him, rubbing her hands thoughtfully.

"Could just rip them out." He glared at her. Okay, apparently that wasn't an option. "Muggle poison?"

"Huh?"

"It's brilliant.

"Are you serious? Won't that point it to you and yours?" She nodded.

"Isn't that the idea? It's not just about not leaving your signature, but you need to point the crime away from yourself. You also will need to have an alibi for the timeframe they die during. As for me, I'm part of the _Golden Trio_. Why would I sabotage something the Order needs?"

"That's a very good question. Why are you? Is this a trap?" She barked in laughter.

"The Order, use a trap? They're above using tactics- oops, I mean unscrupulous means- to win the war. It is not much, but I assure you I am here of my own accord." She stood and brushed herself off. "I'll get you what you need, just hold tight."

"Hey, Granger. Thanks." She turned back to him and they shared a smile, even if it was a small one. Draco still looked a little suspicious, but the stress and irritation he had felt visibly drained from face.

"My name is Hermione, by the way." At this, he laughed and nodded. He looked as though he was about to say something more, but a crunch interrupted them, signalling someone nearby. Hermione swore, and Draco jumped to his feet. Their attention narrowed to the corner of the greenhouse in time to see the shadow of their eavesdropper disappear.

"Careless! Damn it all!"

"Take that side, I'll get this!"

"Why are you helping me?"

"Helping you? You're going to help _me_. Who knows what they heard? What they saw? You're a Death Eater – so what? Your father will protect you. I'm Harry-sodding-Potter's muggleborn friend who just confessed she's not exactly rooting for the home team. I don't have anyone to protect me, you fool! _Go_!"

She took the side where the shadow had disappeared, which was much shorter and had a higher chance that she'd get to him first. If their target opted to loop around instead of take his chances with the open grounds, he'd run into Draco. When she came barrelling around the far corner, the boy apparently hadn't decided yet, because she managed to get him in line of sight before he made his choice. While he hesitated, she wasted no time.

"Petrificus totalus!" she screamed, freezing an unfortunate third year Gryffindor. He dropped like a sack of rocks. "Obliviate!"

"Obliviate?" Draco, breathless, came darting from the opposite side. He must have booted it at record speed. "That's illegal, you know!"

"I really don't want to hear that from someone who's going to be sabotaging a supply of medicinal herbs after this," she answered a bit waspishly. "Now let me finish. Get out of sight." As soon as Draco disappeared, she rennervate the young lad, who blinked at her, confused.

"Are you alright? What were you even doing around here? The greenhouses are off limits unless you're in class, or unless you're getting materials for Professor Snape," she pointed to the bag of mandrake root she had clutched in her hand to signify that's why _she_ had been there.

"I don't remember. Was I looking for something?"

"Well, I found you near the Ashwinder eggs that Professor Sprout keeps for Hagrid and Professor Snape. If an egg breaks, sometimes it can release a vapour that causes memory loss as a side effect. A sort of defence mechanism of the egg, let's say. It's the only thing I can think of. Sometimes students try to steal them for love potions, which I should point out is highly against the rules." At the boy's horrified look, she was quick to reassure him. "Not that I'm accusing you, mind – but just for future reference. You might not want to tell anyone else you were here, you might get in a spot of trouble if you do."

"You're not going to tell the Headmaster?"

"No, I think you've learned your lesson. If I take points, I'll have to report the conditions, and you're a good student. We'll leave it at that for today, but of course if I catch you out here again I will have to next time, okay?" The student scrambled to his feet at the obvious dismissal. He bowed awkwardly a few times, looking guilty for something he thought he may have done. Who knows? Maybe that's what had brought him here in the first place. Hermione didn't bat an eye.

"Thanks Hermione! Thanks so much!"

As the boy's small form charged towards the castle and disappeared, she heard Draco step up behind her.

"Did I just see you convince that poor kid that he was the one in the wrong and you were doing him a favour?"

"It's easier than it looks when you have a clean slate," she muttered. "Then again, it might be the fact I'm an honest, rule abiding Head Girl. Unlike you." Draco shrugged. She had a point, and when he began to laugh, it was contagious and she joined him. "I'm leaving before we get ourselves into any more trouble. My moral code only lets me cast one Oblivate per day, and it'd be a shame to have to break it. I'll get you what you need, just hold tight." She headed towards the castle, whereas he took off in the opposite direction, probably back to grab his book that had been dropped in all the commotion.

She wasted no time in sending off her request. Aunt Mary was her Dad's sister, and had always had a soft spot for Hermione. If the Order ever had a reason to question her relatives, her cover was blown anyway, so finding out where the vial of sodium chlorate had come from would matter little. Her aunt had happily filled the empty vial and sent it straight to Draco like she asked, and on the day it came a letter had come also.

_Draco Malfoy,_

_I don't know what you need this for, but if I'm sending something strange like this straight to you instead of Hermione, you two are probably up to no good. Don't you get my niece expelled!_

Draco had shown her the letter, and they shared a laugh over it. Even though it was scolding, she knew Aunt Mary was probably entertained by whatever bizarre situation she had thought up, and she told him as much.

"What do I owe you?" he asked as he followed her down the hallway. She waved him away, not wanting anyone to see them being so friendly, but called back over her shoulder.

"It's nothing rare, but it should do the trick."

The weekend passed, and Monday came. Draco had come in gloating the night before, so when Albus stopped the meal to make his announcement, it was no surprise. The Headmaster looked very troubled over the matter, and though the Order would lack their usual supply of Wiggenweld, it wasn't bad enough to look _that_ upset. No, the Headmaster was probably more concerned about who and why.

Of course Harry and Ron immediately blamed Draco, and shot him dirty looks across the hall. When Draco saw them and just sneered, it made things worse. Every time that the issue came up, she would roll her eyes. _Boys_. Later, when Draco confessed his worry over Harry's attention, she just laughed.

If he was offended at her laughter, he understood why when Albus announced the next day that a muggle concoction was used. He also requested that anyone with _valid_ information contact a staff member. At the emphasis of valid, it was obvious the boys had gone and voiced their accusations with no proof. She had half a mind to tell them that maybe they should leave things to Albus. While trying to remember how they had worded it exactly though, the time for snarky remarks passed. She ended up just keeping her silence.

Three days later, Harry was still raving how it must be Malfoy, but still had no proof. The whole ordeal had calmed down otherwise, and even Albus seemed less concerned. Maybe he had just drawn his own conclusion, like usual, or maybe he remembered that there were more important things to worry about.

"Harry," she finally pressed, when she started getting tired of hearing him rave. "Who sabotages wizarding plants with a muggle poison? It's more likely that I did it, than Malfoy." Both Harry and Ron just stared at her as if she had two heads, but after that they allowed themselves to forget about it like everyone else.

* * *

><p>Hermione came into the common room Saturday evening, arms full of books. She noticed Draco relaxing in the common room, and took the opportunity to approach him.<p>

"Feel reassured yet? I think you're good, Draco. Still think you should have just yanked them out."

"Like a common animal."

"You opted to poison them like a common muggle instead. Same thing, isn't it?" He glared at her, and crossed his arms with a huff. The matter was closed, and she wouldn't tease him further on it. Hermione pulled a book from her arms and threw it in his lap.

"Curses and Cover-ups by Abigail Lestrange? Granger! This is an illegal book!"

"You know, Malfoy, if I didn't know better I'd think you were a avid follower of the rules. I thought you might like to read it, since you finished your current task you'll probably get a new one soon, right?" She came around and put the stockpile on the table. Her father, along with a couple of other witches and wizards, had left all sorts of goodies in the Room of Requirement. You just had to know where to look.

The couch had been made with the intention of seating very two large people, or three very small. Since the two of them were not giants, they could share the seat without butting into the other's space. Regardless, this was the first time they had ever shared the common room like two civil people, and it was kind of peaceful just sitting quietly and reading their dark texts, no questions asked. Dark Arts didn't have to be isolating, she realized, and as the second hour passed, she would always remember this as a silent bridge into their companionship.

They did the same thing the next night, and the night after. As October progressed, it became routine. Every night at ten they would sit down without fail and read until midnight, pack up quietly and bid each other a good night.

On the Monday before Halloween, Draco closed his book shortly before midnight. Instead of getting up and leaving, he sat patiently and waited for her to finish. When she finally closed her own and acknowledged that he wanted something, he cleared his throat.

"I think that I deserve an explanation." She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're the first Gryffindor Professor Snape has ever taken on. You miss at least one out of three meetings a week, and for the two you do come to, you have your nose stuck in a book that doesn't look much like Potions. I doubt Uncle Severus would let it slide without so much as a comment. You may not be in the Order, but you went out of your way to help me sabotage those plants. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I brought it up to father. Do you know what he said?"

"What's that?"

"He said it's something we should discuss between ourselves. He didn't tell me to stop talking to you, and he didn't imply that I should try to drag information out of you. My father has never been the secretive type, and I hate to think he doesn't trust me. In the same breath, he'd_ never _condone speaking with you. Not normally. Something is up."

"Your father and I may have our differences," she began carefully, "but he's a smart and respectable man. I am grateful for his discretion."

"So you all _are _hiding something, then." She tightened her grip on her book and eyed him carefully. He was not ready, she thought. He still shows too much emotion. He still is learning to shield his mind. Yet, he would never intentionally betray her. Not now. He would want to protect her secret, and that was much better than someone who could, but had no reason to. Still though, she didn't answer, and he pressed. "Who are you?" Again, silence. Frustrated, Draco got up to leave.

"I'm a Riddle," she said softly and suddenly, unwilling to let this connection they had formed break over a secret that would not hold forever. He sat back down, and she explained everything. Her lack of patience, about what the Order had done, about Dumbledore's manipulations. She showed him her mark, and described her initiation. At his baffled look at how the heritage spell had come up pure, she explained that wizards and magic viewed purity differently. If you renounced your odd family member, and had no muggles up until your grandparents, society would view you as a pureblood. The spell, however, only read the heritage of the recipient's two parents. One halfblood and one pureblood equaled two magical parents who had at least one magical parent. It was good enough for the spell. She showed him how to cast it, and though they were the same colour and virtually the same reading, Draco's was a much more vibrant red. _Interesting_. It appeared the spell did distinguish in it's own way after all, you'd just never know unless you were beside them. After that, she explained the task that the castle had given her, and how Snape was covering for the time she spent researching runes. Being able to tell someone her own age was exhilarating, and took a lot off her shoulders. Hermione was so content just letting it all out, she didn't know how long Draco had looked exhausted for when she finished. With a sinking feeling, she realized that she couldn't read his reaction.

The silence became awkward until the common room clock announced that it was three in the morning. Draco stood and bid her goodnight in the same manner he had for the last few weeks, but said nothing else.

She didn't sleep well the next few nights, but her mood became progressively better as his did. It was a relief to see that he only need a few days to adjust. By Thursday, they both had returned to normal, and she decided to take a break from her books and join him. They quietly cut up ingredients until eight, when Professor Snape stormed in like usual. When he saw Hermione standing next to Draco, he did a double take.

"Miss Granger, you are actually doing something relevant tonight. But may I inquire why you are preparing _two_ sets of powdered asphodel?"

"It's easier, I'm trading half for ground moss." The Professor looked between between the two again, as if he expected this day would never come.

"Am I to believe we can actually advance in this so-called project now that the tension between you two has dissipated?" Both tools slipped at that as their eyes swivelled to stare at him, and then each other. Was he talking about in general, or this week? Snape was busy erasing the majority of the board, much to the duo's dismay. They had finished prepping, and both reached to turn off their cauldrons.

"Clean that up while I write out the new lesson. All those can be bottled and stored for a different class. Leave your cauldrons on, we're doing something else." When they didn't move, he huffed. "_Tonight, please_!"

Severus began scrawling something new, and Draco pulled down whatever ingredients came up. After the second last ingredient was added to the list, Hermione clapped her hands together in excitement.

"Tsk, tsk Miss Granger, so eager to break the law." Draco shot her a questioning look. He had been raised on dark artifacts, history and runes, so the ingredient list before him was foreign.

"We're making a blood curdling potion," she whispered to him. Severus took this opportunity to spin around.

"_Incorrect,_ Miss Granger." She furrowed her brow. Even Draco looked stunned. It wasn't like Hermione to be wrong. Professor Snape grinned in a feral way before explaining.

"We are not making _a_ blood curdling potion. We are making _three_, and we are going to variate with each one." He turned his own cauldron on and pointed at the potion, explaining what each person would do differently. The blood curdling potion was extremely painful, but not lethal. They were going to make it less painful, but more lethal, and they were going to make it on a longer timer.

"We want a potion that gives us at least twenty four hours. There's a Ministry banquet on the third, and we do not have access, but we want the Ministry to think otherwise. Lucius has volunteered to administer the drink since the official we're going for is a little suspicious, but very taken with him. Autopsy is going to point to the original potion, but in reality, it will be a much larger variation than they suspect." Hermione frowned.

"Isn't there a different poison we can use? Blood curdling... it's a bit over the top, isn't it?"

"Did anyone ever tell you the anecdote regarding frogs and boiling them?"

"You mean if you throw them in hot water, they jump out, but if you boil them gradually, they don't?"

"Precisely. There is about fifteen or sixteen degrees before a person's body temperature will reach a critical level. I've worked out some different ideas, but we're trying to make the change so gradual that our official's temperature will rise so slowly, that if anything, she thinks she may have a minor bug. She will experience discomfort, headaches, possibly nausea in the last hour. We are not trying to be overly cruel, but we're not going to hold their hands, either."

"But-"

"If you do not wish to participate, you do not have to. This is a direct order, so it will be carried out with or without you, Miss Granger. I'm sure you're well aware that people will die in this war, and unfortunately, not all of them are going to be clean or pretty. If you want to play fair I think that the Order is recruiting, though if I remember correctly, it seemed to be an issue for you."

She clamped her mouth shut and grabbed the closest ingredient. Of course she was going to help with the poison either way, but in the end it bothered her that so much of the reason was now just spite. Draco shot her sympathetic glances now and again, and Snape shot him _don't-encourage-her_ glares. By the the end, she still wanted to slap Snape, but in general didn't feel half as angry thanks to Draco.

They were dismissed shortly before eleven, and since it was long after curfew, they walked together back to their quarters. They had lost an hour, but it was clear that neither one of them intended to skip the rest of their reading time. Draco sat down and picked up his book which he left out frequently now, but Hermione said she'd be right back and disappeared into her room. When she emerged, she only had a large sheet of parchment. Her book was nowhere in sight.

"Draco, before you get too far into that, I wanted to ask you a favour." He folded the page, much to Hermione's dismay, and set his book aside. "Do you remember what I said about Hogwarts, and my task? Before Yuletide, when I have to start the rune swapping, I need to collect an object." She opened the parchment that had a map of the Forbidden Forest, and in the corner was picture that looked like a thin cylinder. She pointed to it, and Draco leaned forward to see what was scribbled beside it.

"Chalk?" he asked disbelievingly. "Well, I think they have some in every single classroom." Before she could stop herself, she grabbed one of the couch pillows and swatted him with it. When he halfway blocked the second, she swung again, and again, until she had three solid hits. "Okay, okay! So I'm assuming you need a special kind of a chalk that's hard to get!" Draco peeked out from behind his own pillow that he had used as a shield. The Head Girl was flushed and laughing, and he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, Slytherin was missing out. Their idea of fun was often at someone else's expense.

"Maybe I should do it alone," she said, suddenly serious, leaving him wondering briefly if he had done something to offend her. Her fingertips just lightly ran over a certain spot. "Dumbledore got his by himself..."

"And? So what if you bring a little extra help, just in case? Did you _plan_ on duelling him one on one at the end of the year? Is there a reason you suddenly have to be more powerful than someone who has over a hundred years on you, and probably _had_ a hundred when he did it?"

"I just-"

"We're not in our prime. No matter how hard we work, no matter how much we learn, certain people will have the advantage of age. Would you ever expect a five year old to match up to a _smart _thirty year old?"

"Well, no-"

"_Well_," he explained, annoyed. "Our side isn't the only one with geniuses. We might not like to admit it, but Dumbledore was a prodigy when he was young. People don't just throw that away. Leave the old man to your father. He'll figure out something. In the mean time, do what you can do. There's no shame in asking for help." When she said nothing further, he continued, scooting forward and rubbing his hands. Truth was, he understood where she was coming from, but he didn't _want_ to be left out. This would be the third contribution this school year, and each time their mission seemed to step up a notch. He couldn't help but feel just a little bit important. "So, that aside, where are we going?" She pointed to different areas of the map and plotted their course.

"Apparently the chalk is kept in some sort of cave. The entrance is about two and half miles into the Forbidden Forest, so we'll want to enter close to Hagrid's hut. This is a safe area – not sure why, but you get about a mile before tripping the forest's alarms – so we'll travel straight through before altering our course and heading for this spot here. The entrance only appears every new moon, so, if you're coming, we'll be heading out tomorrow night."

"So, we're missing the feast?"

"I understand if you don't want to come-"

"No, that's not it. Don't you think it'd look strange though if we both were missing? Especially after what happened with Crabbe and Goyle, people will come looking for you." She frowned. He was right.

"We're on a very tight time limit, but I understand what you're saying. We'll go to the feast. If you see an opportunity to leave, take it, otherwise we'll meet up at Hagrid's hut immediately after. We'll have to hurry. The trip will probably take an hour, assuming we don't run into anything. We'll grab the chalk, pass the test, and then we'll head back. If possible, I don't want to be fumbling around the forest after midnight."

They went to bed early that night, and Draco regretted it. He stared at the ceiling until at least four in the morning before finally falling asleep. He'd have to nap during spare tomorrow for sure.

* * *

><p>Classes the next day were spent fidgeting and thinking about what they should bring to the cave. If it was just a trip to and from, there shouldn't be much problem, but what if they ran into things not easily taken care of? Draco thumbed the Potions knife he always kept on him.<p>

They were both excited and nervous about tonight, so as the day progressed they found themselves doing things they just weren't in the mood for. In Charms they were casting the Avis spell, which would cause a flock of birds to erupt from the caster's wand. Each flock would act differently, based on the person's intent, so the room was full of chirping birds that, for the most part, flew around and played with one another. Some would peck at a member of the other house, others went looking for food, and one group even landed at Hermione's desk and started ripping her notes up. She was in the middle of her cast when she saw it, became distracted and enraged, and what was supposed to be a simple and friendly charm turned into a nightmare. Angry crows burst from her wand and attacked everything in the room. Draco, who had been sleeping soundly in his chair and had no idea what was going on, woke with a start at the sound of screaming. His Slytherin table mate pulled him under the desk and pointed the Gryffindors. They were the only ones who didn't have the sense to hide.

In the end, there were three students that had to go to the Hospital Wing, six broken lights, and at least two dozen dead or wounded birds. Hermione had the decency to look ashamed, and muttered apologies before taking her seat and fixing her notes. After that, she was content to act as if nothing had happened. For the rest of the class, Flitwick was flabbergasted, the Slytherins were highly amused, and the Gryffindors looked like they expected to be murdered by their own Head Girl at any moment.

Draco thought Charms would be reason enough to skip dinner, but she had shown up regardless, and he kept a close eye on her. The entire school could tell Hermione was still irritable by dinner, and even her table didn't try to drum up any conversation with her. Even Ron and Harry were sitting a couple seats down from her, talking to Dean and Seamus, and occasionally shooting her worried glances.

She sighed. So, sure. She wasn't the most approachable person anymore, but honestly she wasn't going to bite anyone. Just stab her potatoes, and her roasted duck, and maybe Albus Dumbledore if he got close enough. She was still wallowing in her person storm cloud, but came to attention when she realized someone was behind her. Turning her head, she recognized Mandy Bucklebee, the girl who frequently mumbled that she was a useless Head Girl when Hermione didn't respond to her issues in a timely and efficient manner.

"For Head Girl, you sure don't pay much attention to the students, do you?" She felt her teeth begin to grind and her eye twitch. "The Slytherins charmed an entire plate of beets to dance across the table and dump themselves all over my robes! What are you going to do about it?"

Hermione looked at the girl, who had the telltale red stain of beet running down the collar of her uniform. Again, her eye twitched. The girl, obviously assuming Hermione wasn't going to do anything, put her hands on her hips and complained loudly:

"Honestly, whenever I ask you for help – things only Head Girl could do, you shirk your duty. You have to the be the laziest Head Girl Hogwarts has ever seen!" The entire table around her had fallen silent, and all eyes riveted to Hermione, who carefully folded up her napkin (before she used it to strangle the chit) and stood slowly.

"Who was it?"

"What?"

"Who threw the beets, you silly girl? Stop wasting my time – tell me you actually know who dropped the bowl on you." The girl looked a mixture of surprised and worried. Looking at the Slytherins, she took a moment before answering: "Parkinson! I know it was her."

Removing herself from the bench, she walked briskly past the other two tables to Slytherin. They saw her coming, but she still had to shove herself between Draco and Pansy. She slammed her palms down on the table so hard that they began to throb.

"Which one of you charmed beets to assault Miss Bucklebee?" A couple eyebrows raised, a couple smirks formed. She slammed her hands down again and shouted. "By Merlin someone better fess up within the next five seconds or I swear I'll just hex the lot of you and snap my wand!"

"It was Blaise, actually." Malfoy drawled.

"_Not_ Pansy, then?"

"Pansy barely passed Charms-" there was a few chuckles and a grunt of protest before Draco patted her hand and smiled, "My dear, you do much better inTransfiguration, don't you agree?"

At this confession, Hermione flicked her wand. Down the table, a bowl of beets rose and dumped itself upside down on Blaise's head. At the cry of outrage, the entire hall fell silent. She could see the Professors, so oblivious during meals, all turn their attention to what was going on. You could hear a pin drop at this level of silence.

"Retribution," she remarked loudly, "for assaulting a fellow student during dinner." Minerva clearly had a look that said: _That is not how you deal with it, Miss Granger!_ She pretended not to notice.

"And Bucklebee-" she called. The tone of her voice wiped the girl's smirk clean from her face. "Thirty points from Gryffindor for wrongfully accusing another student of foul deeds. Do not bother me again with this nonsense – any further infractions during meals you may take to a Professor. Since this is foreign concept to you, they are usually seated at the head of the hall." She pointed, as if the girl may not know where the front was, and she could see the blush of humiliation spread across the younger girl's face. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be taking my dinner somewhere I will not be interrupted." She grabbed a couple slices of bread, before turning on her heel and storming from the Great Hall.

Draco began to panic. She had seen her exit and took it, which meant their trip to the Forbidden Forest was starting soon, if not this instant. He was still worried that she may decide to leave him behind. He rose swiftly from the table and approached Gryffindor with a dirty look. Since the hall had not recovered quite yet, most of the tables could hear his announcement.

"Must be pretty bad when I feel sorry for a _Gryffindor._" At this, the girl who had just given Hermione her leave, turned and looked hopeful. "Oh, _please_, Bucklebee, I'm not talking about you. Unless maybe I'm feeling sorry that you have _no_ redeemable qualities to begin with, so you have to pull things like this just to get noticed. I'm talking about the Head Girl who has to deal with you. With _all_ of you. Gryffindor has more issues than all three of the houses added together. _Pathetic_. I think, since Granger doesn't know how to put her foot down, this would be a good time to point out that there _is_ a curfew, and curfew means you need to be tucked away in your common room. _Not_ seven floors lower, in the basement, knocking down our portrait at all hours of the day, intent on waking us both up. Now, if you'll excuse me, I better go make sure Granger hasn't torn up the common room out of aggravation. _Again_. Can't blame her. Not really."

He nodded to his table who were all still looking amused, since they never caused any problems for the Head Boy or Girl. As he left though, he made sure to do nothing short than snarl at the Bucklebee girl, and slam the doors behind him. Good. He escaped. Hopefully Hermione hadn't left yet.

* * *

><p>They had agreed to meet just outside of Hagrid's Hut, and so Hermione ducked out from the castle, making sure no one saw her leave. Once on the grounds, she didn't need to be as careful since no one was out here and it was impossible for human eyes to pick out anything in this light. Still, she ran to their meeting spot carefully, swinging her head around to look for anyone who might be out here who shouldn't. When she arrived at Hagrid's garden, Draco jumped out from behind a pumpkin, and despite knowing that he would be right behind her, she didn't expect him to come straight here. It startled her, causing a yelp of surprise.<p>

She gave him a playful shove, and he laughed, and soon she couldn't help but laugh with him. Together they entered the forest, and each cast a Lumos so they could navigate. The tips of their wands shone brightly, but regardless it almost felt like the dark was trying to smother them. If anyone claimed that the grounds were bad when there was no moon, they obviously hadn't been in the Forbidden Forest. She wondered if Draco regretted coming with her yet.

"It's like our own little Halloween party," he whispered.

"Don't jinx it. I'm afraid it might be."

"At least it's a new moon and not a full, right? No werewolves is a definite plus." She shot him an incredulous glance, and lifted her wand close enough between their faces so he could see it.

"Draco, there are worse things out here than werewolves, especially on Halloween. The Architect making this cave only accessible in this level of light gives me the willies." They walked in silence for a fair distance. "How did you get out so fast without raising suspicion?"

"Who said I didn't raise suspicion?" She could see a flash of white teeth. He must have grinned. "I took a page from your book and had a go at Mandy Bucklebee myself. Annoying chit. Maybe you'll be left alone now."

"Doubtful. Mandy only approaches me at mealtimes, which wouldn't be an issue if she didn't have a quaffle shoved up her arse. It's that entire house. Honestly, if I only had the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs to deal with, Head Girl wouldn't be so bad. Gryffindor is a nightmare."

"Well, I may have addressed the entire lot and implied strongly that they're not only annoying you, but annoying me too. Also, people now think you have an issue with controlling your temper. You destroy the common room a lot."

"Yes, well I bet the castle just _loved_ that. Bookworm has a violence problem. I'm surprised I can't hear it from here." He snorted. It wouldn't be surprising if by tomorrow Hermione roamed the corridors, looking for a fight. They passed a small clearing that was hard to see, but still recognizable. The unicorn was long gone.

"Um, not to sound like a complete wimp, but I've been in this part of the forest before. Remember first year? You said this was the _safe_ part?"

"Oh, absolutely. I mean, Dumbledore wouldn't let Hagrid of all people take children, let alone Harry, into the forest if it had anything he couldn't handle. And besides, you didn't actually run into anything other than Father killing unicorns, did you?"

"Um, that was terrifying. I thought I was going to die."

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she muttered. "Don't think a year is complete without almost dying at least once or twice." She stopped and grabbed Draco before he could step any further.

"What is it?"

"We're here. This is the boundary." She shone the light on a tree beside her, which held a carved X in the trunk. He would have missed it, but then again he didn't know what they had been looking for.

"Why did we stop?" She didn't answer, but stood still. Draco imitated her, and at one point realized he was forgetting to breathe. Something approached them quietly and stopped about three meters away.

"You are trespassing," came a voice. He recognized it immediately. _Centaur_.

"We are-"

"We are all aware of your intentions, _Riddle_." He felt her tense beside him, and Draco made a mental note to reassure her that ghosts and centaurs may know everything about everyone, but they were also the world's best keepers of secrets. "Regardless of why you're here, it does not change the fact that after you pass these trees, at this time of night, any creature you come across will want you dead. If they smell you, they will hunt you. If they find you, most will eat you. _ If _you're lucky."

"I understand. If you know why we're here, please allow us to pass." There was a long silence, then a grunt before the presence vanished. Again, he had made little noise, which was a little strange considering hooves often hindered any ability to be stealthy.

She moved past the boundary and he followed. Their steps were much quicker, and she made a lot more noise than before, but it made sense. Whatever was in here could probably smell them. "Well, that was weird," he offered, making sure to keep up to her pace.

"Centaurs are honourable, territorial creatures," she explained. "If you wait at the boundary and gain passage, they will leave you alone. We'll have enough after us without them too. As you could see, they knew exactly where we were, so it's good we've got their permission. Otherwise, we probably would have died the moment we crossed into their territory."

They reached their goal sooner than planned, and she dangled the hexagon key in her hand and motioned Draco over.

"Should be some sort of rock on the ground, probably about the size of our table. We need to hurry."

They split up, but did not wander far from each other. Finally, he called her over. He had expected a cave entrance, not a slab of flat rock in the ground. Sure enough though, there was a hole to fit the key in, and she wasted no time in shoving it in and turning. How much of the forest knew they were in here? How long before they would come to eat, maim or kill the intruders?

The ground rumbled underneath their feet and she pulled Draco back as the earth dropped away to a set of stairs. There was no light down there either, she realized with a sinking feeling. In fact, she had no idea what was down there. Terror bubbled up inside her, and when Draco reached over and snatched her hand, she didn't think it was just for her benefit.

"You really need that chalk, eh?" Her only response was a swallow that, in this silence, was easily heard. "We could go back. Get better prepared. You have two more months, don't you?"

"I don't think so," she whispered. "It's tonight or the end of next month. We can't leave it that close. If we fail tonight we'll have to come back. If we fail next time, it'll be too late."

"If we crawl down into this hole and fail tonight, somehow I don't think we're trying again next month." Silence. He had a point. "Think it's really down there?"

"I really hope so Draco, because _something_ is down there." They heard crashing in the distance. So the cavalry was on its way. Who knows what kind of creature would come bounding out of the forest. She didn't want to find out. He was still gripping her hand with enough force that made her wonder if it might shatter, but she wasn't about to chastise him. She was scared out of her wits too, and at least the constant reminder that he was still there gave her a little bravery. Enough for her to drag him down the steps. "It's now or never, Draco, the forest is coming." She reached out and plucked the key from it's place on her way by, and as the stone began to rumble shut, she pulled them both down the winding steps.

On the bright side, well there was no bright side, and that was a good thing. The inside was just as dark as outside, so when they heard the stone entrance click shut, it didn't get any darker. They only had to deal with the initial terror of being trapped underground, which was dampened when you couldn't see your freedom disappear with the door. Also, it was comforting to know whatever was scratching at the entrance couldn't get through. Apparently they arrived with not a moment to spare. When they reached the bottom of the stairs and entered a hallway, she picked up the pace. Draco's hand was still clutched in her own, which forced him to jog to keep up with her.

"Oi, aren't you going a bit fast? You don't know what's down here?"

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, "I just want to get this over with." She slowed down, and he sped up a little, which negotiated a more reasonable pace. After what seemed another mile, they came up short at a metal barrier. When her light caught the keyhole, she reached forward to insert it, but Draco grabbed her arm.

"It's an Ark!" Draco exclaimed in awe, moving his light along the door, which had gold trim and intricate symbols. "I've read about these!"

"An Ark?"

"Yes. Arks are magically fortified caverns or labyrinths that were formed, some up to thousands of years ago. In the old days they used them for various things. Some were safe havens for witches and wizards, or meeting places for any big projects. I've heard that the Department of Mysteries has a branch held in one, somewhere. They used to also use them for training grounds. Take Daedalus for example, he created a labyrinth to train young witches of wizards. They had to use their abilities to make it through to the centre, and if they didn't, well, guess they weren't that magical after all. Sometimes the occasional muggle-" at her silence, he held his wand up to her surprised face and squinted. "Wait, haven't you heard of this?"

"Well, I've certainly never heard _that_ version before."

"Yes, well, muggles have always skirted around the issue of magic," he whispered angrily. "So much in fact they'd rather believe gods came down from the sky and procreated with regular mortals. Apparently that's more acceptable, and _so_ much more believable. Merlin forbid there be a witch or wizard hero, yeah? And people wonder _why_ we look down on them." Hermione stood stunned at Draco's analysis. It was the first time she had ever heard anything anti-muggle come from him that actually made sense. Her knowledge on history was limited to the last thousand years or so, so she had never head about any of this, but she didn't doubt him. She made a note to get some older stuff from him. He had obviously found it entertaining if his passionate argument was anything to go by.

"Well that's just great," she murmured as she realized something.

"What is?"

"I realize that this place is supposed to hold the chalk I need, but at the same time do you see the Architect passing up the chance to make an Ark into a training grounds? He built a sodding school."

"I doubt it would be a hard one, if it was."

"Why do you say that?" He finally took her key from her and inserted it into the hole and twisted, like she had done above. As the door rumbled open, he took her hand again and drew her into the room.

"A lot of people felt that the training Arks were too barbaric. We were losing a lot of people to them, so they felt schools would be more appropriate-" His sentence was cut off when Hermione grabbed him and pulled him backwards. Something flew by them, and then swung back into the darkness. They retreated back to the door and took a ducking position. They could hear the door sliding shut, and as it clicked both of their wands went out, and whatever was swinging slowed.

"It kind of sounds like a clock."

"I think if it is, it's now a very _slow_ clock." They sat quietly in the complete dark, mortified when they realized that no amount of waving or chanting would bring their only source of light back. The entire room was rumbling, and occasionally ticking, and as Hermione took slow breaths in and out to try and calm herself, Draco squeezed her hand. Another minute passed in silence, until the slowing whoosh of whatever was swinging came to a stop. As soon as it did, a torch beside them flared to life. In sequence, torches lit themselves in a circle around the room and spiralled upwards for several stories. They craned their necks to see there were platforms up until the very top. On the wall beside them was a bronze plate. There was a crossed out wand, and she felt her stomach sink.

"I see." Draco was standing beside her, his eyes adjusting the light also. "Wands have always enhanced our performance, but wandless magic, though notably weaker, has always been a valued skill. A thousand years ago, it probably wasn't as lost and forgotten as it is now."

"Gee, Draco. Is this how I sounded for the last six years?"

"Pretty much, know-it-all." He smirked at her and they stared at the towering platforms that worked their way around. She still had the top portion of her uniform on, but had changed into jeans along with her running shoes, and suddenly she was glad. She hardly wanted to attack this in a skirt and dress shoes. She was also glad that she had asked Draco to come along.

They put away their wands, it was obvious they wouldn't need them, and finally looked at the centre of the room. They could see what had almost hit them now, and approached it. A giant pendulum hung down in front of them, but no longer moved. Looking up again, it was clear the chalk must be at the top, so Draco pointed to the only wall nearby where they could climb up.

"Look at the platforms, each one is significantly higher than the next and you can't reach them by normal means. I'd bet you the house cup that each platform has a door that leads up and down." He pointed to the lowest platform, which had the only visible way up, accessible through a wall of branches and vines. They moved to it and found little difficultly in picking their way through the vines and branches to reach the top. Draco was right, there was a door at the end of the alcove for this one. They approached it and saw that the number one had been carved into it. Underneath it read: _Magic needs knowledge, and knowledge needs time, yet even magic can control time._

"What the heck?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's something we'll understand later," Draco offered. He pulled open the door and they stepped through. It looked like the Forbidden Forest, but the stone wall behind them said differently, as did the amount of light. Turning around, the door that led back to the main room disappeared. So, they were stuck in here.

"Is each level going to be a test?" Draco shrugged.

"Probably, that's how it normally went. Why?"

She pointed upwards to the sky, where a perfectly round golden moon sat.

"Seeing as it's a new moon, I don't much like what that implies." As if on cue, both of them took a step back as a howl cut through the night. Draco was trying his best to mask his fear, but he had gone about two shades more pale, and that was something you couldn't help but notice. It was a well known fact that if he had to pick what creature he liked least, it was a werewolf.

"Do you know how to fight a werewolf without a wand?" In response he pulled out a small knife. "You're going to stab it with your potions knife?"

"It's silver."

"It's tiny!" He scowled.

"Yeah, well, at least I brought something. You can just punch the snot out of them if the time comes, I'll be back up." She huffed and crossed her arms.

"Maybe I'll just punch you and you can be the bait while I run."

"And here I thought I was the Slytherin. Well, do what you have to do - no place to go but forward, right?" He held out free hand, and she grabbed it willingly. She had years of holding hands with Harry and Ron whenever they did something life threatening, but for Draco this was a first. If she noticed his shyness, or the way he scrunched his eyebrows while trying to understand the comfort it brought, she didn't say anything. They headed towards the tree line with whatever courage they could muster, and when another howl sounded much closer, Hermione got the feeling this entire trip was going to be way more trouble than it was worth.

* * *

><p>AN: I didn't realize that the Ark was going to be this soon, and when I realized it was next chapter, I'm not going to lie – I got excited. I had so much fun writing the attack scene in chapter three, and as you all can probably guess, this place is not all sunshine and rainbows. It almost felt like I was ten again on a long road trip, as I typed this chapter yet all I could think is: "Am I there yet! Am I there yet!" It was pretty amusing, and as you can see some of it ended up filtering into this chapter. Originally it was supposed to end when Hermione asked Draco for help.

We'll not only be seeing more Draco and Hermione character interaction next week, but also some growth. The training grounds are meant to do just that, after all. I feel I've done pretty good at keeping my releases going on time, so I hope you all can bear with me and wait until next Saturday! As always, I love to hear what you guys think.


	5. The Heads take a Hogwarts LOA

**CHAPTER 5**  
>The Heads take a Hogwarts LOA<p>

* * *

><p>They flew over fallen logs, under trunks and around various trees and boulders. She could feel new cuts overlap the old ones as branches slapped her bare arms and face, but it didn't slow her any. As long as Draco's footsteps matched hers, there was no time to turn back. What she would give to have Mandy Bucklebee harassing her at dinner again. What she would do to be back in that insufferable castle.<p>

She could hear the trees crack behind them whenever Draco could manage a weak Reducto. Even though it wasn't much, Hermione was jealous at his ability to manipulate magic wandlessly. She hadn't known he could until three nights ago – the night they had entered this forest, and also the night when they started to run for it.

They broke free of the forest line, which may have been a bad thing, and found themselves running towards the river. The Forbidden Forest and her dangers were still mostly a mystery, but if what they knew already was anything to go by, taking their chances in the water would probably not end well. They both came to skidding halts. She groaned. _Just let it eat me_, she thought miserably. _I can't go another step_.

Hermione's hands clasped over her mouth in abject horror when the werewolf in pursuit came barrelling out behind them, and went straight for Draco. There was nothing she could do.

It happened almost faster than the eye could follow. Draco shrieked as he went down, the wolf on top of him. With no time to think, he instinctively used his feet to propel the creature over and past him. It gave a startled yelp as it splashed out of sight. They waited for the wolf to emerge, but it never did. Since the creature hadn't actually been harmed, it was a little curious.

He was closer, so it was him who broke out his shock first and went to investigate. When Hermione came up behind him to have a look of her own, he grabbed her and pulled her away.

"Don't get too close."

A pool of red was seeping along the surface, which meant something had got it, and got it fast if there was no chance to resurface at least once. Stopping themselves from diving in had been the right choice, after all. They backed away quickly, just inside of the tree line, and kept moving briskly.

When they came to a Great Oak with a hollowed base, they wordlessly decided that's where they would rest for the day. Draco started picking up branches and twigs to make a defensive wall, but Hermione opted to just collapse on the grass nearby.

She had never felt so awful in her entire life. She knew she was starving and severely dehydrated, and every time she took a breath it felt like a hundred razor blades shifted in her lungs. Her legs were sore. The skin around her cuts were red and puffy and screamed infection. Despite all this, it was the rising sun that made her despair the most. _This is the third day_..._ and I have _no_ idea how to get out of here_. Later she would regret her breakdown, but at the time it was inevitable. It was Monday, and they should have been headed to double Potions by now. When she started to sob, Draco came and sat next to her silently. His presence almost made it worse. Hermione would have never guessed that he would adapt so well, and it made her feel all the weaker. Even though she already felt ashamed, she threw herself against him and cried herself to sleep.

After that, Hermione slept on and off for two full days. Whenever she woke, Draco would come to her side and lift a small water skin to her mouth. Afterwards, he would force her to chew on slivers of braided knotgrass until she was content to fall back asleep. When she woke on Wednesday morning, she almost felt human again.

She lay quietly in her makeshift bed until Draco came in and stared at her. She stared back, unsure of what to say.

"You okay?" She nodded slowly, and whatever he gathered from that moment must have pleased him. He looked relieved. Draco came to her side and helped her sit up, then reached behind him and grabbed a small strip of bark. When he lifted the leaf to reveal a hearty portion of berries and nuts, Hermione's stomach growled in reply, and she wasted no time wharfing down the offering. He grabbed her arm. "Slower, Hermione. You haven't really eaten for days. You'll hurt yourself."

Even though she didn't want to, she ate slower like he asked. About a third of the way through, Draco took the bark plate from her and reassured her that she could eat the rest later. She nodded. That was fine, she was feeling a little sick now anyway.

Draco offered her another drink, and Hermione silently wondered how he managed to have something like this, even if it was small. His ability to take care of another person was unexpected. It seemed that Draco was full of surprises.

"Thank you," she murmured, laying back down. She studied his face. He looked older. Tired, worn. But also stronger and more mature than he had before. When he brushed her hair away from her forehead, she could feel the callouses on his hands. This place had forced him to grow up, she realized. Just like it made her break down. Even though they were friends, she had still thought of him as a spoiled rich kid. Apparently no one was above stereotyping, and she suddenly felt guilty. She promised that she would reassess her opinion later, but for now her eyelids felt heavy. Hermione let herself drift back to sleep.

By the next day she was up and walking around. As she got her strength back, they formed a routine, and tweaked it daily until it became ideal. She helped him with chores that he had been doing without her. Often, he would come over and show her an easier and more effective way. She would listen calmly, but inside she raged at herself. While she had been recovering, he had to learn these things on his own. Hermione couldn't help but feel guilty, but there was never a hint of accusation in his voice.

It didn't take her long to become useful, and in some cases, even more proficient than him in certain things. With the time they saved by sharing the work, there was more time to travel. They collected food while they walked, and if Hermione saw a strong branch she would grab it. Draco would sharpen it later, and they could use it as a weapon until it broke or was lost.

One day, he came back to camp with a treat. In each hand was a large bone, and she couldn't help but laugh. Only a pair of barbaric foragers would be happy about such a find. She helped him clean them properly, and watched as he began to carve them new weapons.

"They look human." He didn't say anything, but made a face that clearly said: _They are human_. She wondered whether it was a previous tenant, or a dead werewolf. His change of mood deterred her from asking. Oh well, so she didn't know. Thinking about it, she didn't care much either. Dead was dead.

They didn't speak of where the bones came from again, but he didn't hesitate to express how excited he was for weapons that wouldn't easily break. He fashioned them each a long knife, and when he handed her his second, she felt a swell of pleasure. It was by far the nicest, and fit in her hand perfectly. Later, he would beam when she found the engraved lioness on the hilt. As she hugged him in thanks, and vowed to never, ever tell him it was by far the ugliest depiction of one she'd ever seen. So fine art wasn't Draco's strong suit - he still got credit for trying.

The new weapons proved to be a great success against werewolves, who may be weak to silver, but who still had soft bellies and throats. Unlike their old wooden spears, the bone knives did not break. It saved a lot of time, not to mention worry, when there was more than one enemy to be killed. They were still prey, but they were mean prey, which mean they no longer ran away. Soon animals saw them as a threat. This made some more aggressive, but at the same time, a lot of the weaker animals and beasts backed off.

The small potions knife was enchanted to never become dull, so he used it to sharpen their weapons and crack open nuts. He had an eye for finding food, and even Hermione would go to him, berries or nuts in hand, for approval. Sometimes he would sigh in mock horror and pat her on the head, and she would dejectedly throw to the ground whatever poisonous snack she had tried to offer up.

Neither of them were surprised when Hermione found her strength in fighting. She never took satisfaction in the murder of any creature, but where Draco still grimaced and sometimes hesitated, she kept a straight face and did what needed to be done. She saw weaknesses like he saw, well, food. Even Draco had mentioned that when it came to a fight, she was meaner with the knife than he was. She had mixed feelings about that, but if it kept them alive, so be it. Hermione also took on any scouting chores. She was lighter and more agile than her partner, so could scale any tree easily, and still have the energy to travel and build defences.

Overall, she was content with how far they had come.

Every day, a few hours after high noon, they would start looking for a safe place, whether it was in the back of shallow cave, or inside of a great thick trunk. They would bar the entrance with sharpened sticks and traps, then sit in the back and take turns keeping watch. It worked fairly well if they kept the entrance small. Anything that came in more than one would bottleneck, and anything bigger than them would get stuck. That left things that were their size, and in those cases, they usually weren't hard to dispatch. Every single night was a full moon. Every single night everything they_ didn't_ want to meet came out. Maybe they weren't attacked as frequently now, but she still had to sit and listen to things she didn't even want to begin to identify. Along with werewolves, there were werecats and giants. Dire wolves and boars left them be for the most part, but in the unfortunate circumstance that they stumbled on them... well, it turned really ugly, really quick. Once or twice they had come across a poisonous snake that made Nagini look like the regular garden variety. She shuddered.

Over the weeks, Draco's wandless magic had also come a long way, even she could tell. Whenever he became more proficient, or was able to cast something new, he looked pleased and surprised with himself. Sure, he couldn't cast anything big, but he was getting pretty good at Reducto, which came in handy. He had also been able to transfigure two leaves into a small drinking pouch, which explained where that had come from, and was able to refill it at will. When her jealousy over his skill had subsided enough, it caused her to be more curious than anything, and finally, she approached him.

He was more than willing to teach her how to do it, but soon it became clear it wasn't something she had a natural talent at.

"Your father is pretty good at wandless magic," he said one time, and suddenly she hated having something that she had to live up to. She had stormed off as far as she dared to go. When she came back, Draco was whittling away, and neither spoke about what was said again.

"Remember to try to cast different things. Sometimes certain spells are just harder for certain people. Like, if I could manage even an ember from any sort of fire spell, we could have a fire and a warm meal. If that was the case though, I doubt I would be as good at water based charms."

"You cast a great Reducto wandlessly."

"Ah. One or two used to be my limit, and even now I can only cast a handful before it starts draining me. I think I could refill a thousand flasks and not feel as tired. Also, I only learned Reducto this year, Aguamenti was actually my first spell. I think I was three and underage, but when father started trying to train me after I got a wand, that was the first thing I was able to cast. In fact, do you remember what your first underage spell was?" She blanched at the memory and mumbled something. "What was that?"

"I don't think I ever did."

"What? That's unheard of."

"I know, but I don't remember. I even asked my parents about it once, and they said I had never done anything out of the ordinary. When I got my Hogwarts letter it was a complete surprise to all of us." Draco frowned.

"There must have been something, sometime. Maybe just try some elemental spells. You could've just made it rain or something – that's something no one would think out of the ordinary." She closed her eyes and concentrated like he had taught her. She thought about the various elements. When she thought of air, she thought of flying, but she had never been much of a flyer. When she thought of water, she imagined drowning, and realized that particular element didn't appeal to her either. Earth she had no problem with, but she felt somehow disconnected to it. She promised to go back to it after, but as soon as she concentrated on fire she got the feeling of familiarity. If she had one, this was it. _Fire_.

She imagined her hands splayed out in front of her, and imagined twin sparks lighting in her palms and growing. They would get warmer, and the flames would grow larger, strands licking upwards and crackling, trying to burn whatever was nearby. She was not afraid of fire, she thought. She had never been. This helped fuel her magic, and it was so close. They became so real, and then... _nothing_. For once, Hermione didn't seem frustrated, but just perplexed.

"I can't." Draco was looking at her oddly.

"I know." When she stared at him, puzzled, he explained. "I felt your magic crackling, and then it was like you just hit a wall and it fizzled out. That's bizarre, it shouldn't be like that. Once you get to that stage, you're there. You'd have to physically stop yourself, and then it would be only be a chance."

They tried a few more times, but each time she got to the same spot and it just died out.

"Perhaps we can ask Professor Snape when we return," she offered. Hermione didn't think she could take anymore failure for one night, so she pulled out her bone knife and began clean it. Draco watched quietly, knowing full well her knife was spotless, but that the discussion was over and she was intent on distracting herself. She looked up at him suddenly, as though she was just about to say something, but her gaze slid past him and narrowed on the entrance of their cave.

"Is – is that what I think it is?" She asked, pointing to the small furry form that sat at the base of their camp, watching quietly. Draco was about to say something sarcastic, but stopped and took a better look at it. Sure, it was a rabbit, but it glowed in such an ethereal way it resembled a Patronus.

"Wow, never thought I'd see one of those. Think we should follow it?" The two of them never left their camp during the midnight hours, and now the full moon was high, which meant most of the forest was out hunting. It was a tough decision. Moon rabbits were practically a myth, they were so rare, but if they came to you they would offer you the one thing you needed most. Despite the comfort they had gained with the situation, they _needed_ to get out of here.

"I don't know, you make the call. I'd hate to pass up the offer, though." Draco stood and approached the rabbit.

"We need to get out of here," he told the rabbit. "Do you know where the exit is?" Given its task, the rabbit hopped in a circle and jumped a few steps away. It looked back, hopped in the circle a few more times, and went a few more feet. "I guess he does. Come on, we're going!" They grabbed what they could and followed the lucky break.

Rabbits travel fast, and this one was no exception. Draco and Hermione had to sprint to keep up with him, but after the first half an hour when they started to get winded, they decided it would be best to walk. The rabbit hopped back and, if possible, looked annoyed that his two charges weren't keeping up. They walked as fast as they could for another two hours, sweat starting to roll off them in exertion. They reached a part of the forest that was all twisted, and it slowed them down further. They had to climb and crawl through the mess, and more than once they thought the rabbit gone. Finally, covered in dirt, they reached a cave. Into the cave they went, winding through the dark. When they emerged, they were out of the trees, and approached the largest body of water they had seen in the forest yet. The lake itself was probably at least half the size of Hogwart's, but this one had a thick stone bridge down the centre of it. At the end was a small hill, and even from here she could see the door. It was the same thick, enchanted wooden one they had come in from. What if it led back to the first floor? She didn't think she would be able to bear it.

"Humans must run or die!" They stared at the rabbit, but before they could say anything, it hopped forward and under the water, out of sight. Talking rabbits - now they had seen everything. But the two of them didn't need to be told twice, the door was a good half mile away. They ran as fast as they did the first night. Adrenaline kicked in when they heard the roar behind them.

Giants were somewhat slow, and the bridge was only wide enough for two at a time. Unfortunately, they were also so large that their lumbering steps easily equalled about seven or eight of a human's. They dared not stop, but they did look back when the bridge started to rumble under the weight.

They didn't know if it was a blessing or plain bad luck when the werecats came. They weren't as strong as the werewolves, but they were smarter and quicker. They came flying out on all fours, but before they could reach the two teenagers, the giants started their own war. Apparently they weren't impressed that these guys were trying to steal their kill. It allowed the two of them to keep forging ahead. Occasionally they would have to stop and deal with the odd cat that made it past. Draco lost his bone dagger in one of the cat's throats. Hermione took out an eye, which sent their attacker veering off, howling. When the werecats piled on a giant and he fell back in the water, the screaming started. If you've ever heard any large cat scream, you know that it's enough to stop a person dead in their tracks. This was enough to send some of the cats right back into the forest. Others crouched and started hissing. The giants that were left, paid no mind and kept trying to attack. All the two teenagers knew was the attention was not longer on them, and it was clear why when a mangled giant's body came flying out of the water as if it weighed nothing. The corpse landed clean across the bridge, cracking and sinking a good portion of it in front of them. They ducked and hid behind the barrier of the bridge when the tentacles shot out, flailing.

The familiar screech of merpeople rose up in the night to meet the werecats' chorus of bloody murder. The giant squid, who had no vocal chords, made his own noise by killing everything in sight. Just listening to the battle was enough to send terrified shivers up both of their spines. Draco took the chance to peek over and see what was happening.

"The one at Hogwarts looks like a runt compared to this one," whispered Draco, afraid something might hear them. On her own glance, she couldn't help but agree. The thing must have been a good quarter size of the lake, and Hermione wondered if there was a larger chasm underground. This surface area just seemed way too small to harbour this size of monster.

The merpeople joined the squid in the war against the giants and werebeasts, though on occasional they would catch a glimpse of the two humans and try to attack them too. Draco grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her along the bridge. When they reached the giant, they clambered over him. Draco jumped down first, but Hermione was still on top when the squid yanked the giant, and therefor Hermione, off the bridge and through the air. Hermione did her best to hold on for dear life, but she lost her grip at the last minute and went flying into the lake with a splash. Draco didn't hesitate to scoop up one of the merpeople's spears and dive in after her.

His element may have been water, but there was no graceful and valiant underwater battle to be had. He had no way to breathe, not without his wand at least, and what was worse was that he had no way to see clearly. The water was murky and brown, and the only things he could make out were tentacles when they got to close. Panic swelled up inside him when he couldn't find her. What if she was at the bottom of the lake already? What if something had already got her? When two merpeople approached, he speared one, but the other was prepared to take his head off. He dodged the best he could, but still felt the sharp edge cut open his cheek. He clasped his free hand over the wound, not because it hurt, but in an attempt to stop the pillowing blood from seeping out anymore. It would lead everything straight to him.

His attacker raised her spear again and was prepared to finish the job, when he saw a familiar bone knife protrude from the creature's chest. With a tug, Hermione realized that she too, had now lost her weapon, and together they flailed for the surface. Draco helped dragged her out, and was thankful that they had been so close to the shore. The bridge was in shambles, and even then, there was no easy way to get on it. She sputtered a few obscenities and together they half hobbled, half ran the rest of the way to the door. They didn't bother opening it civilly, just threw all their weight against it. They both let out cries of relief when it swung open, and they toppled through. Draco kicked it shut with his foot, and just in time, because there was a single thump on the other side. Whether the door had repelled whatever was on their heels, or it had just given up, would remain a mystery. They both were exhausted, soaked, and covered in filth. Draco handed her the pouch first to dump over her head and drink from.

"I would kill for a bar of soap," she muttered when it felt like she was only smearing the dirt around. She sniffed herself and made a face. _Eau de Fishy Swamp - lovely_. Draco refilled the flask over and over for her until she was done. She was pretty sure the grime under her nails was permanent. When she returned the pouch to him, Draco took a swig but didn't bother trying to wash up at all. Instead, he moved to the edge and peered down.

"Hermione! Take a look at this! That rabbit _really_ helped us out." Hermione joined him and they stood staring at the floor far below. They had somehow skipped the other floors, though considering how long this was supposed to take and how long it did take, it wasn't a surprise. Surely they had taken the long way through the Forest. She also didn't have the heart to argue that sure, the rabbit helped them out, but they would have probably found that exit themselves within another week. During the day. When a battle of that calibre probably wouldn't have broken out. Then again, who knows, it could very well not matter what time of day they had reached the exit. Not if the architect had designed a forest wide alarm to go off when they approached the last stretch.

Either way, it was over, and Hermione felt a huge weight lifted off her shoulders. They were out of the forest, and there was only one room to go. As long as they were in fair health when they returned, they could take a running leap at the pendulum and ride it down like a pole. If one of them fell, she was sure that Draco could muster enough of a levitation spell to at least cushion the impact. In any case, the only Forbidden Forest they would have to go through again was the one back to the castle. The real one had nothing new, and if they timed it right, they wouldn't have to worry about much. The forest was not so forbidding during the daylight hours.

They approached the final door with excitement. This one had no plaque or number, and was just a large wooden door with a handle. He pulled it open and ushered her inside.

The final test was a maze. Towering bushes obstructed their view and reached the stone ceiling. Behind them, the door locked but did not disappear. So they would have to navigate through and navigate back. Of course. Regardless, she couldn't help but feel this whole thing was almost over. She felt like she could take on the world, and by the look on Draco's face, he felt the same.

They each grabbed a torch from the wall, which left the entrance looking rather dark, but the path in front of them not nearly as frightening. They entered the only available path, and took a left. Then a right. Then a left. They zig zagged through until they reached a dead end, then zig zagged back. They did the opposite, and retreated again. Slowly but surely they moved deeper into the maze, and she carefully plotted their course mentally. They were backtracking again when she grabbed him.

"Stop." Draco turned and looked at her, puzzled. She looked around carefully, making sure she hadn't made a mistake. "This maze is changing."

"How do you know? Could you have missed a turn?"

"I'm very good with maps," she explained. "It's why I kept track. Something weird came up the last few turns, but I let it slide and told myself I'd just watch out for it. The path is definitely changing behind us when we're too far to notice. I think it's a test of magic, not just logic. Listen." Sure enough, when they tilted their heads and listened carefully, they could hear the telltale rustle of the hedges. They were moving around.

"I see. So what do you suggest?"

"Try to concentrate," she offered. "Maybe if you call up your magic, it'll make us a path."

He did as she asked, and with a yelp of delight, he pointed to the right.

"You're right," he said. "It's faint, but I'm pretty sure this is the way." They twisted and turned through the maze at a much fast pace now. Draco would occasionally stop and use his magic to find the right path again. When he began to look exhausted, she shot him an apologetic look. He didn't blame her, they both had concluded that something was wrong with her wandless, so it was up to him. For now. She touched her wand lightly. It would not help her, not here, but it provided her a familiar comfort. _Soon_, she thought.

Within the hour they emerged from the maze and into a small room. There were torches here again, so she had enough light to see the box on the pedestal ahead. She sprinted towards it, excited.

"Finally!" She lifted the lid and saw faintly glowing sticks inside. Runed chalk, probably the most potent left in all of the wizarding world. Five were missing, and seven were left. The castle had told her she would need two, but she stared others longingly, itching to take them as well.

_Taking more than two would be disastrous_, the castle told her. _Each piece you take has a test. For one piece of chalk, the test is laughable. When Albus arrived the first time, he took the required two and escaped without too much difficulty. The next time, thinking he knew what to expect, he took an extra. It almost killed him. He did not realize that the difficulty multiplies tenfold for each additional piece._

_Why can't I take just one, and come back for the other at a later date? _

_You may, if you decide that is wise. By the time you get to the chalk you may not feel the same way. For the second piece you will have to forego the same trip, and granted, it is an option you may prefer. I will leave the decision up to you._

The work to get here had been too much to go through again. She didn't know if they had done something wrong in the first room, or if it was designed to be that long and difficult. She looked over at Draco, who nodded to her and grinned widely, momentarily forgetting his fatigue in the joy of their quest finally being complete. She plucked two from their resting spots and carefully folded them into her drawstring pouch. Snape would slay her if he found out she had taken the bag, and left the portkey itself on her bedside table. In fact, she had kicked herself more than once over it.

Suddenly Draco was much closer to her and tugging on the hem of her shirt.

"Don't be alarmed," he whispered, "But I think we're surrounded. Not sure what to do."

She looked over her shoulder to see what he meant, and when she did, she spun the rest of the way around. Draco's arm had a slight tremor in it, and she wondered if she looked as afraid as he did right now. Despite his fear, he didn't move, and kept standing between her and the Inferi that were flooding out of the maze. So _this_ was the test. Didn't have to wait long, did they? And was _this_ what the Headmaster had faced? _This_ he escaped without too much difficulty?

It was easy to see that they were trapped. They had the chalk, but the Inferi were closing in, backing them against the pedestal. She should have known. The final test would be nothing they had faced before – after all, that would be too easy. It could be worse, she thought. It could be Dementors. Try beating _those_ without a wand.

"Draco." She tried to push past him, but he was intent on guarding her. "What are you doing? You're exhausted." Even though she said that, what was _she_ going to do? She had lost her knife. He didn't answer her, and as one drew in too close, he cast what he could. It seemed to work, but he was already drained so the next one he swung his torch at. It staggered away with a moan. She used her own torch and copied him, but soon they became overwhelmed. She heard him scream, but she only turned in time to see him disappear into the crowd. His torch lay on the ground, abandoned.

She pushed and shoved and kicked her way in the direction that he had disappeared to, and the crowd parted long enough for her to see his arms flailing under two of them.

"No! Draco!"

"Run! Just run! Get out of here!" Hermione felt herself begin to hyperventilate, and her vision became unfocused. She had thought that she conquered her fear by now. Was the knowledge that Draco wouldn't – no, he couldn't – save her, causing her this much upset? Or was it the fact that it was time for her to save him, and there was nothing she could do?

Inferi were literally dead bodies, resurrected by who knows what in this case, and they moved in such an inhumanly slow and creepy way it sent shivers up her spine. What was worse was that they already had Draco. She had no wandless magic, Draco was lost somewhere in this crowd, and now they were grabbing at her and there was no visible way out. They may have faced death before, but never had they had all of their options impossibly blocked, and if they had, something had presented itself to them much earlier.

Stupid quest. They were really going to die!

The Inferi grabbed her and started dragging her back towards the maze, and when she fell they were on top of her. Her torch rolled out her grasp, but did not sputter out like Draco's had. She willed it to come back to her as grotesque hands familiarized themselves with their prey. Soon their jaws would start to gnaw at her skin, and she would die a slow, agonizing death.

_Don't kill Draco_, her mind screamed. _Don't kill him, it's not even his quest!_ Her eyes squeezed shut, and she willed herself to wake up, to find out this was all a dream. It was Halloween, she had fallen asleep on the couch, and she would be shaken awake and chided by the Head Boy. They'd cancel this whole, stupid trip, and tell the castle that she'd have to save herself or find a better wizard. They'd contribute some other way. Some way that didn't involve them both dying for nothing. Preferably something where they didn't die at all.

The hot tears started seeping from her eyelids. She wasn't dreaming, and she wasn't going to wake up, she realized when a mouth dragged up her cheek, leaving a wet trail. She slapped it away as hard as she could. She wasn't ready to die yet, and she began to struggle again.

_Give me back my torch_, she mentally screamed, reaching towards the lost weapon. _Give me back my torch, and I'll burn them all! If it goes out, I'll get another. I'll kill them! _She imagined hitting her attackers with the torch, but instead of just burning them, they would be entirely consumed. They would catch on fire as though they were covered in oil, and she would watch in satisfaction as they turned to ash. When she made no progress getting to her torch, she wailed in despair, and in that moment it felt like something inside of her broke.

The more she struggled, the brighter their humanlike forms seemed to get.

She blinked her tears away and tried to see a bit better. They _were_ brighter. In fact, the ones around her were on fire. They weren't _supposed_ to be on fire... _had she_?

She waved her hand again, and realized what had broken. It was the wall that had always stopped her when she came close to using her magic. Now it rolled from her fingertips in excess, as if escaping from the floodgate that held it back.

_Incendio_. Fire shot forth again, lighting three more of them on fire. Again. Again. It wasn't enough, Hermione thought. She scrambled to her feet and grabbed the lost torch. Holding it out in front of her, she used the already existing fire to fuel larger casts. She allowed her hatred and despair to take over. It projected intent far stronger than she could when in control.

It reminded her of bowling, she realized, as the flame rolled through a group of Inferi, leaving a blazing trail of corpses. She cast another, and it burned through the hedges and up the walls. She didn't stop until every Inferi in her sights lay smouldering on the ground, and even then she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. Her entire being wanted this place destroyed, and her magic was more than happy to comply.

Her rampage was cut short when rough hands grabbed her wrists from behind. The torch dropped to the ground and rolled away for the second time tonight.

"Stop, Hermione! You're destroying the Ark!"

"I don't care!" Yet she sobbed in relief that he was still alive. "I never want to see it again!" Her adrenaline seeped away, which left her core empty and battered. That level of magic was not meant to be used without a wand, she thought, and this was why. It felt similar to the night against Snape. Even if they got out of here, she wouldn't be able to cast a thing for days. She collapsed into his arms, and once again, was thankful for his presence. Draco lifted and carried her straight out of the room. Her fire was still burning, but it had left a very linear path straight to the door.

"Draco, we have to hurry," she said sleepily, tugging at his collar. He didn't say anything, but just gave her a determined nod. She took it as a good thing. Draco was strong. She trusted him to get them out of here. It was the last thing in her mind as she drifted into unconsciousness.

When he burst from the door, he realized that he hadn't stopped her in time. Ark was destroyed. The final room must have been the heart of the place, because the entire fortress was in the process of collapsing. It rumbled and quaked underneath his feet, and he gripped her tighter, praying that they wouldn't fall and could escape in time.

Luckily, stairs had appeared for them, ringing down and around the room towards the exit. They must have appeared before she went berserk, because nothing else seemed to be in working order. Cracks had erupted from the walls and glowed a violent red, and pieces of ceiling bigger than either of them came sailing down. When one clipped the stairs and broke half the steps, he realized he had to move. Now.

Draco held his charge as close to his chest as he could while clambering downwards. More than once the impact from falling debris threw them against the wall. He'd swear and gather her up, making sure she was alright before hurrying on. He couldn't even touch the walls without blisters breaking out anymore, and both of them had thick, heavy sweat rolling off them before they reached the halfway mark.

The pendulum lost whatever hold it had and came crashing down. Draco watched in horror as it caved part of the floor in, then came falling in their direction. When it hit the wall, he tried his best to hold onto her, but it didn't not stop them from rolling down the steps. He had protected her head the best he could in the fall, but in return had sacrificed his own safety. Two of his fingers were broken, he suspected he had a fractured wrist, and his shoulder throbbed so badly it made him cry out in pain.

He couldn't go any further, he realized. He leaned against the steps and sobbed miserably. The Ark continued to collapse around him, and when a piece almost landed on Hermione, he became enraged. The hell was he doing? He had sworn that he wouldn't break down. He had _promised _her. Granted, she had been asleep when he said it, but it still counted. Not to mention that she trusted him to get them out of there. He forced himself to stagger to his feet and approach her.

Any strain on his shoulder was almost unbearable, and even when he shifted her into a better position, he felt dizzy and weak. They were so close. Hermione was out cold, so she couldn't see him cry. He allowed himself the small indulgence while gritting his teeth and hobbling towards the corridor.

The corridor that was connected to Ark was still stable. About twenty steps in, he tried to lay his charge down gently (though it was pretty close to dropping), and collapsed beside her. He watched as the remainder of the room caved in and crushed the entrance. Draco wondered if the Forest had collapsed also. If so, were the creatures inside dead? He didn't feel bad for most of the beasts, but there had been plenty of beings that weren't out to murder them. Would the Moon Rabbit perish also, or was it even part of the Ark? They would never know. His hiccuping and stifled sniffles slowed until they ceased to exist, and as the soft glow from the burning rocks faded, he decided it was time to move on.

He grabbed his wand and whispered a spell. His Lumos flared to life, stronger than ever, and he couldn't help but feel joyful that he could finally cast everything again. Once again, he lifted her up and made for the exit. About halfway to the forest, he couldn't carry her anymore, so he put out his light and opted to levitate her the rest of the way instead.

He saw the entrance before he reached it, which meant it was wide open and it was, thankfully, morning. As he climbed the shallow set of stairs, gently guiding Hermione so she would not bump into anything, he worried what was going to be waiting at the top. Would it attack them the moment they popped out of the hole? It was enough to falter his step, yet in the end he realized he had no choice.

If anything, he did not expect to see Uncle Severus sitting on a log nearby. He was alone, and Draco felt relief wash over him. Professor Snape shot to his feet when they emerged, concern etched across his features. When he had the girl securely in his arms, Draco released the spell.

"I am beginning to think that Miss Granger enjoys spending her time unconscious." Draco forced a smile at Snape, but didn't have the heart to laugh.

"I'm sorry, Uncle, I don't even know how we're going to explain this. We thought it would take a night-"

"You've only been _gone_ a night."

"But- no. We've been in there for weeks. I don't know how many but-" Professor Snape eyed the two teenagers carefully, seeing the changes in them, and not doubting that whatever Draco believed was partly true.

"Draco, today is the first of November. You've been gone but a single night." Draco stood stunned. He had known for a fact that days, if not weeks, had passed while they were in there, yet his godfather was not one for sick jokes. If the man said a day had passed, a day had passed and nothing more. The first plaque that they had read so long ago, rang in his mind.

_Magic needs knowledge, and knowledge needs time, yet even magic can control time._

When the pendulum stopped swinging initially, time must have frozen for them. When Hermione destroyed the Ark unintentionally, the magic must have failed and started time again. _Amazing_.

"Hermione will be pleased to hear that," he murmured, suddenly exhausted. He sank to the ground, and Severus lay the girl down and kneeled next to his Godson.

"You two look like you've been to the Underworld and back. Drink this." He pulled a vial from his robes and Draco tilted his head back and let it trickle down his throat. Suddenly he felt he might be able to go on, just enough to make it to the castle. As he climbed to his feet and began to head in the direction of Hogwarts, Professor Snape coughed and held out a watch. "Your parents wish to see you."

Usually, he'd be elated to see them, especially after this long. The thought of them seeing him like this, however, killed it. They would fuss and ask questions, and all he wanted to do was pass out and rest for the next couple of days. _ Kind of like what she's going to do_, he thought, frowning down at her. _Lucky chit_.

On the bright side, as soon as he touched the watch, he would be done with the forest. He'd be back in civilization, where you could sleep without one eye open. Where his biggest threat was being annoyed by Potter. The thought warmed him, even though he knew it wasn't that simple.

Draco reached for the portkey, and before he knew it, he was crumpled on the steps of Malfoy Manor. Seriously, no one expected him to land on his feet, did they? Not in this condition. He heard Snape land gracefully behind him, but at this point he didn't care. The marble steps were so much more interesting, and wonderfully cool against his skin. If he was jealous that Hermione was unconscious for this part of the trip, he didn't need to be. When Lucius opened the manor doors to greet his guests, he found something that resembled his son passed out on the steps, a soft smile gracing his face. Draco, in the end, would get his wish. Neither one of them would allow themselves to be woken up before Sunday.

* * *

><p>Her mother loved Divination. She would pour over crystal balls and books all day, and write things that Hermione didn't understand, but found fascinating nonetheless. At night they would lay out in the field and her mother would tell her what each constellation stood for. Hermione would giggle and ask if it was bedtime, and her Mother would tickle her that children weren't supposed ask such things. She did not know where they lived, but it was small and beautiful, and when you looked outside all you could see was grass and hills.<p>

She remembered the woman having a soft french accent that had gradually faded over the years. She had beautiful brown curls and large chocolate eyes, and Hermione remembered hoping that maybe one day she would look just as beautiful as this regal woman in front of her.

It was just the two of them, always just the two of them, and if it stayed that way forever... well, Hermione didn't think she'd mind much. However, it was not meant to be, and on the summer that she would turn five, they would receive their first visitor. Nothing would ever be the same again.

She was in her room when the commotion began. Mother's voice had gradually raised to a shout, and four year old Hermione Granger tiptoed out of her bedroom.

"You can't be serious," came the shriek.

"Cassandra, we mean you no harm. But we have to put a stop to this. He _cannot_ have this child."

"Yet you have come to harm my child! I cannot accept that, do not ask me to! Tom is gone, what more do you want? Please, _please_ just leave us in peace, . We just want to be left alone." Hermione peeked around the corner. Her mother was trying to usher two strange men out the door.

"You of all people should know that Tom is not truly gone. When he returns, he will want his heir, and we cannot allow this. The Gaunt line must not be allowed to continue!" The older man spoke, but the younger one kept his foot in the door. She had never seen Mother this upset before.

"We have no intention of leaving this place! We will stay here. He will not find us."

"You mothered a child for him, and perhaps you two did not love each other, but I know you care enough to return to his side. You have always been honest and kind, Cassandra, do not start lying now."

"So what? You're going to murder an innocent child?"

"Is that her?" Her mother swung around to see her daughter had accidentally stepped into the kitchen while eavesdropping.

"Hermione! Go upstairs, honey, I'll be up in a minute." She tried to come and usher Hermione from the room, which just allowed the men back in. Hermione sidestepped her and pointed the elderly man.

"Mummy, is he bothering you?"

"Take the child," the older man said. At this, her mother pulled out her wand and cast something green. She missed, but it left both men stunned for a second. Soon spells were flying around the kitchen at an alarming rate. Hermione hit the floor and crawled under their kitchen table, covering her ears.

A flash of red and it was over. Cassandra fell to the floor, and her head hit the tile with a sickening thud. She didn't move, and even the four year old child knew her mother would not wake up again. Still, she rushed the body, and clung to it miserably. The two men watched her sadly.

"Get the girl, Alastor. I'll send an Auror to take care of the mother." When the younger man tried to pry her away though, she flailed and bit him, screaming and crying miserably. The next few minutes was a blur.

The house was burning. A vortex of fire grew out from the two women, destroying everything in its path. What wallpaper was left started to peel from the heat, and it took both men to send the younger one through to grab her. She was too tired and upset to struggle much, but she still tried her best as she was dragged from the house.

The last thing she remembered of the vale was watching the house burn. Her mother was inside - no one had grabbed her.

When she woke up again, she recognized the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts, but of course as a child, it would have been a foreign place. Voices could be heard arguing just outside the door, but no matter how hard she tried, Hermione could only pick out bits and pieces. As she remembered what had happened to her mother, she put her fist in her mouth and cried as silently as she could.

"Remus, this is my final decision. We're going to put her with a muggle family, and they will raise her."

"Fine, but the girl is young enough to soon forget what happened. It's too dangerous to cast an Obliviate on a child, especially one under the age of ten."

"Did you already forget the amount of damage she caused? A child's first wandless cast will always stay with them. It is the manifestation of their talent. Do you really feel comfortable with Tom's daughter running around able to cast fire at will when she's older?"

"No one wants his daughter running around at all," came another voice. "Wasn't that the point of collecting her?"

"We do not murder children, Alastor! Preservation of life is our highest priority, and you would do well to remember that! And Remus, I _will_ Obliviate her, she _will_ forget her mother, and her wandless magic _will_ be locked. Her mother did us a favour by casting a Confundus web around the two of them. Even if she is seen by any of Tom's followers, they will not recognize her."

"Which is a given, because surely she will not be attending Hogwarts?" There was a pause. "_Albus?_"

"No, no of course not. I agree, that would be unwise." The conversation died after that, but a moment later Dumbledore came in and kneeled beside her bed.

"You're a bad man," she spit, balling her fists. "I'll _never_ forget my mum!"

"Please forgive me, child. I promise this won't hurt." Before she could become upset enough to summon her fire, she felt, rather than saw the Obliviate. Her new life had started at that moment.

* * *

><p>Hermione groggily came to, and found herself tucked into a couch. The first thing that came to her mind was that somehow the Obliviate barrier had broken in the maze. Her head throbbed in the way it did when someone had been in her mind. Whoever it was, hadn't been gentle in their leave. She looked around. A good portion of the room was in shambles, she noted. And there was shouting outside the door.<p>

"Her wandless magic will be hindered for the rest of her life, Severus! The only decent spell she'll ever be able to cast is Incendio!"

"You're being too hard on her, Tom. She's still an excellent witch, and it could be far worse. I don't understand why you're this upset." Severus' voice was reassuring, but as if he wasn't even listening, her father continued.

"Family traits, wiped clean from the tree! The parseltongue gene has been completely obliterated! He deliberately raised her as a muggleborn, and knew full well what an Obliviate at that age would mean!" She felt tears prick at her eyes. So _he_ had pulled forward that memory, and wasn't happy with what he saw.

She reached up and wiped away the tears before they could escape. It didn't matter, she told herself. It didn't matter if he hated and resented her.

Hermione pushed herself out of bed. Her ribs were sore, and she wondered if they had been bruised or broken during their escape from the Ark. She hobbled towards the door, but realized that she didn't want to face her father. She moved to the window instead and peered out. Hopping along the roof reindeer style probably wasn't the safest and most mature option. Just as she was about to give up and go to bed, a shadow fell over her, and a hand presented itself. She looked up to see Draco, clean and well dressed like he had been before, but more handsome than she remembered. She blushed.

"Parents," he offered. "They blow a lot of hot air, then are surprised to find out we heard them. They're all the same." She couldn't imagine Lucius saying such awful things - not about Draco. But, he had obviously heard the argument, and he did not look upset on her behalf, just knowing. When he wiggled his fingers to remind her that he was waiting, his eyes twinkled mischievously, and she found herself unable to resist. She took his hand and he pulled her onto the roof with him, and as she passed the threshold, it was like all her troubles bottlenecked at the window. It must have been late afternoon, she mused. It was warm and sunny, with the perfect breeze. The birds chirped happily, and down below, house elves hustled around, trying to complete the yard work on time. She forgot everything, and in that moment, it was just the two of them. They skirted around the edges of the roof, escaping to nowhere in particular, and laughing like children who were up to no good. Up here there were no parents, no war, no school. There was no danger, except maybe falling off the roof.

But hey, when falling off the roof is the worst that can happen, you're living a good life.

* * *

><p>AN: Hurray for a day early on the chapter! Hope you all enjoyed it, and the next update will be no later than the 13th. Thanks to everyone who R&Rs, as usual your feedback keeps me dedicated.


	6. All Part of a Well Balanced Education

**CHAPTER 3**  
>It's All Part of a Well Balanced Education<p>

* * *

><p>The morning was spent climbing in one big circle around the roof. Whenever they would see something new on the grounds below, Draco would stop and point and tell her what it was. By noon, she could probably navigate her way through the hedge maze flawlessly, give detailed directions to the Malfoy crypts, and provide about half a dozen ways to escape the grounds if need be.<p>

Finally, they were startled by a house elf who popped up on the roof, almost right under Hermione. She scrambled, trying not to trip over the poor thing, and watched in dismay as a loose tile tumbled out of sight below. Normally she'd let it slide, but that could have been her, and so she opted to glare at the quivering creature in reprimand.

"So sorry, so sorry! Binty meant not to startle the Master and his guest! But Master Lucius wishes to see you, Master Draco. That's why Binty has come."

"Why did he not summon us himself?" Draco's humour was still present, but the house elf just wrung her hands and shifted foot to foot, as though it had done something wrong.

"He does not know where you are, Master Draco."

"Are we not being loud enough?" He laughed then, and Hermione's eyes almost bulged out of her head. Was he was _purposely_ trying to annoy his father? "No matter. Tell him we will be down for dinner." The house elf looked panicked at the idea it may have to tell the Master something so flippant, but Draco paid no mind. "Meanwhile - Binty, was it? - will you bring us some lunch? Some butterbeers and grilled cheese would be acceptable, I think." When he realized Hermione was staring at him incredulously, he misread her expression and offered, "Would you prefer something else?"

"Um," she muttered. "That actually sounds wonderful."

The elf bowed several times then, and mumbled unnecessarily like they tend to do, that it would be back soon. The two of them scrambled further up the roof, onto a flat landing near the attic, and waited with their backs leaning against the wall. Finally, unable to take it anymore, she asked him:

"Won't your father be mad?"

"I'm still entitled to be a brat, sometimes. Have until graduation before they fully expect me to be compliant. Now if your father summons us, unfortunately we will have to go." He spread his hands apologetically, as if he would resist the summons if he could. Her eyes raised to the sky and she sighed. _Brat, indeed_. Hermione found this sort of behaviour unusual; she had always taken the requests of her parents very seriously, both muggle and magic.

When the house elf reappeared, it seemed they were off the hook. Her father _hadn't_ summoned them, and, in fact, there wasn't even a return message from Lucius. They were presented with two bottles of cold butterbeer and a platter of grilled cheese. Content that they were pleased, Binty popped out of their sights and did not bother them again. Draco immediately raised his bottle and took a swig.

"To our first meal that isn't berries and nuts!"

"Oh, this is your first too?"

"Oh, I'm sure I was fed before that, but I was only up and hour or two before you. I spent it in the loo. Flushing toilets and a shower! _Thank Merlin_!" He let his eyes dramatically roll back in his head , and then shot her a grin. She laughed and reached for a sandwich.

Hermione had never been a big fan of meat, but when she found the sandwiches had bacon in them (and quite by accident) she was not displeased. The way the flavour exploded in her mouth – butter and cheese and salt and bread, she had half a mind to mimic Draco's delight over running water. Suddenly half a dozen of sandwiches between the two of them didn't seem like such an accomplishment. Even the butter beer was amazing. They polished off the meal silently, and when they were done, the dishes disappeared. The two of them flopped onto their backs and rubbed their full bellies almost in unison. Hermione vowed she would never take another meal for granted. Well, not for the next couple of months, at least. The sun was warm, and for the first time since she escaped through the window, she frowned.

"Draco, what day is it?" Her companion nearly shot up into a sitting position, swearing and looking guilty.

She listened in silence, watching the clouds as he filled her in on how she really _had_ destroyed the Ark, how Professor Snape had been waiting for them outside, and how they had come straight here afterwards. He outlined his theory on the Ark's pendulum, and told her how it was only Sunday: In reality, not even two days had passed since they left the Halloween feast. When he was done, he watched her quietly from his leaning position, and wondered if she would be upset. Instead, she just smiled softly and looked over at him.

"I'm glad." It was almost a whisper. "In the end, it really did only take a night. Stupid castle. I should just draw graffiti all over her." He snorted, but had nothing else to say, so he just lay back down. They spent the afternoon napping and soaking up sun, much like a pair of regular teenagers, both decided.

They never did make it to dinner. On their way, Draco veered off and ended up finishing his grand tour. He showed her the grounds that they couldn't see from the roof, the kitchens, and where her guestroom would be from now on. She was pleased to note that it was _not_ the sitting room she had woken up in. He showed her the library, and then showed her where the _real_ library was (which was much smaller, but far more interesting). The entire time they never ran into anyone else, which was impressive, but Draco had lived here all his life. If he didn't want to be found, surely he would not be. He led her back to her guestroom around seven, and showed her the bathroom. If she wanted a bath, she should have one now, he explained. Snape was taking them back to Hogwarts no later than ten. She was torn between ransacking the library or taking his suggestion, but before she could decide, Binty reappeared then. Draco was being summoned again, but this time he told the elf that he would be right there, and politely, if not a bit formally, dismissed himself from her. As Hermione stood alone, she realized that she probably wouldn't find the library again on her own. Not to mention that a bath _did_ sound wonderful.

The experience was heavenly, she decided as she pulled on her clothes a few hours later. The bath itself was big enough to swim in, and just like the Prefect's bath back at Hogwarts, it was fully equipped with magical jets and scented bubbles. Unlike the school, however, she didn't have to worry about other females or the occasional perverted ghost. It made for a huge difference in relaxation. When she reentered the guest room, there was a very unimpressed looking Tom Riddle sitting beside the bed. Obviously he had been waiting, and normally, she would have been concerned at how long. Instead, all she could do was blurt: "Is that appropriate?"

"When I cannot find my daughter before she returns to Hogwarts? Naturally." Okay, so there were always reasons to enter your kid's chambers – even in a pureblood society. Good thing she hadn't paraded from the bathroom naked, she thought. She felt a blush creep across her cheeks.

"_Fine_." She crossed the room and tossed her hair towel onto the vanity stool. She was acting petulant now, and she knew it. But she wasn't pleased with him in the least. He watched her rip the hairbrush through her hair a few times before trying again.

"How much did you hear?"

"Just enough to understand that I'm a failure." He visibly frowned.

"That's not what I meant." Then, as though he felt he needed to say something more, he added: "Severus was right. You're very talented, even if you're stunted."

"Gee, _thanks_." She knew he didn't mean it as an insult, but her nostrils still flared in indignation. Even after a decade her adoptive Dad had said stupid things. It was a male defect, and it didn't help that Tom had just been thrown a teenager, and a female nonetheless. His chances of success were bleak, so she forced any further retorts down, and just opted to ignore him. But it's hard to ignore someone when you can see them watching you in mirror. She tried to block out his presence, and concentrated on her mother.

"What was she like?" The question was sudden, and seemed to throw him off. She found his discomfort amusing. He was the might Dark Lord, after all.

"She was a very bright young witch, when I met her," he murmured, obviously knowing who she meant. "Very beautiful, very talented. She loved Divination, as you know, but it was more of a hobby. Before she became... pregnant," the word seemed to be sour on his tongue. "She enjoyed Runes."

"Did you love her?" Again, he sat in stunned silence.

"Did I love her?" He repeated the question slowly, as if it had never occurred to him before. Hermione held her breath. _Stupid_, she chided herself. _What a childish question_. _What did it matter if her parents had been infatuated with each other?_ After what seemed like an eternity, he offered: "I cared for her, at least." They went back to silence then, but it was not uncomfortable. Hermione set down the brush, but continued to stare at her reflection. She really did look a lot like her mother. If she tamed her curls a little more... maybe applied a little make-up. A little work and she would be a spitting image of the woman she hardly knew, but had loved more than anything. The woman she had forgotten for thirteen years.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Severus entered, looking between the silent pair curiously.

"It's time to go back to Hogwarts," he explained, and Hermione rubbed a hand over her face, exhausted by her thoughts. Tom got up and left the room quietly, saying nothing more. It left her wondering if he had only come to apologize. Or try to, at least. Such a charismatic individual in some aspects, she thought, yet words of apology or encouragement seemed to be a foreign concept.

* * *

><p>When they returned to Hogwarts, Hermione wasn't sure what she was expecting, but whatever friendship Draco and her had formed started to dissipate rapidly. It did not cease to exist entirely, but on Wednesday he didn't even show up for their normal reading time. Instead he opted to lock himself in his room.<p>

He got moodier as the week went on, and every time she tried to confront him about it, it made things worse. On Friday, when she turned into the Potions corridor, it came to a head. Harry and Ron had somehow got the drop on the Head Boy, who lay sprawled on the floor, disarmed, and with two wands trained on him. _Something was really wrong_, she thought immediately. _Draco would never let those two overpower him. Not anymore._

Ron muttered something and cast a stinging hex, which made Draco hiss quietly but not cry outright. He shrugged to Harry and they cast a few more unpleasant things. Harry didn't look like he was having as much fun as Ron, but both boys seemed intent on taking whatever issues they had, out on the Head Boy. They didn't realize, or just didn't care, that Draco wasn't fighting back. Ron was apparently tired of being limited to only minor curses for magic, so when his victim didn't react the way he wanted, he opted to change tactics. For the first time since Hermione started watching, Draco cried out as Ron's boot swung against his stomach, sending him slamming against the wall.

"Stop it!" She screamed, and when no one listened, she threw herself into the fray and shoved the redhead away fiercely. She shielded Draco with her body against any further attacks. Looking up at them from this angle, she saw them in a whole different light. Gone were the Harry and Ron she had known, and for the first time she truly saw them as Draco and Severus did. They looked like nothing more than a pair of Gryffindor bullies, and she knew that even if this was reported, nothing would be done. Unlike Slytherin, Gryffindor (and especially Harry and Ron) had pretty much free reign to do whatever they wanted. The ugly looks on their faces faded into boyish confusion, but she didn't move.

The few other Gryffindors in the hallway stood stunned. Blaise came around the corner with most of the Slytherin class, and when they saw their Head Boy laying on the floor, they all reached for their wands.

"Don't touch me!" Draco yelled, suddenly shoving her away harder than he meant to. He fumbled around for his books, and without looking at anyone else, stormed away. After class, she went hunting for him, and finally cornered him in the common room.

"What's your problem," she snapped, cutting off his exit. "Draco!" He snarled and tried to step around her, but she grabbed his arm. He tried to shove her away, but it was half hearted at best. When she let him go, she figured he might run, but instead he threw his bag at the wall as hard as he could, crying out in frustration.

"Why would he do this? Why now?" She approached him and touched his shoulder gently, and it deflated whatever willpower he had left. Draco sank to the floor and put his head in his hands.

"What happened?" Silence. "_Tell me_," she pressed.

"I've been assigned another mission. In the forest." Her hands clenched into fists. _Was this a joke_? They may know the forest better than anyone else, sure, but the trauma both of them had suffered – wasn't it enough to reassign the mission elsewhere? She studied the boy in front of her. His eyes were bloodshot and he was pale. He had been this way since they came back, so the assignment... it must have been given to him personally at Malfoy Manor. She felt anger towards Tom well up, and bit her lip.

"I'll talk to him – we'll have it reassigned, Draco. It's that simple. He must not realize-"

"He does!" She withdrew a few paces at his outburst, and Draco pushed himself away from the wall and began pacing. "Uncle Severus has already tried to argue the point, but Tom is insistent that _I_ do it. The centaurs will listen to no one else," he mocked. "They respect nothing short of strength, and they spent enough time in there to become part of the forest. Even if he does not like it, he will go back in and negotiate terms with them. That's _exactly_ what he said."

As a rule, the centaurs did not like the magical community to begin with, nor did they like humans. They viewed the race as weak and pompous, and now she began to see her father's point of view. The Ark was part of the forest, and so anything in there that was old and intelligent enough to pass on lore, would know exactly what it entailed. The foundation of the forest was simple: Kill or be killed. It was easy enough to understand, but to experience and prevail for the amount of time that they had... the centaurs may still dislike them, but they couldn't deny that they had survived in a situation that required more than a few flicks of a wand.

"Draco – I don't want to sound like I'm siding with him, but I think if anyone has a chance of succeeding, it is us."

"Us?" It was as if that's all he heard, and he frowned and stared off at nothing in particular. "You're not coming - the mission was given to me." She scowled. Why _would_ her father assign Draco the mission, and not her? Why not both of them at least? He _knew_ her promise to the castle did not begin until she returned from the winter hols...

"The hell you're going alone," she finally replied, firmly. There would be no room for argument. She watched emotions cascade across his face like a waterfall, and with startling clarity she realized something. Draco had never taken the time to break down. It had always been her, and because she had shown her weakness, she dealt with the aftermath after much better. For the most part, Draco had bottled up whatever terror he had, then dismissed it when it was no longer valid. Now it was required that he face it, but it was too much to handle.

He had protected her, and was trying to even now. She felt a warmth spread inside of her, but at the same time she was ready to hit him. So ready, in fact, she had grabbed his shirt and drew back her arm without realizing it. But when he stared at her with a dead look in his eyes, her resolve faltered. Instead of smacking some sense into him, she pulled him into a hug. They sank to the floor.

"We've _never_ done our missions alone, Draco, let's not start now." Her voice was muffled against his neck. "We're going together. It won't be the same, I promise. So whatever you're still holding onto from that stupid place, let it go."

She thought he might cry, his body started to shake enough to warrant it. In the end he just hiccuped and clutched her tighter. After a few minutes she realized he had fallen asleep.

* * *

><p>Whatever small reassurance Hermione had given him that night, worked. Draco had returned to his usual self within days. While he worked on his Potions project, Hermione was sitting nearby working on the best way to approach centaurs.<p>

_There it was again_. She had been giving off exasperated huffs for nearly half an hour now, and Draco wondered what had her stumped. Even the occasional scribble of her quill - whether she was writing anything of use or not - had ceased and now just tapped lightly against the paper in front of her. His cauldron was just simmering, and so now while waiting for Professor Snape to return, he watched her quietly. He was amused to see her start poking the quill upside her temple.

"You know, I don't think that quill has any good ideas." Her head swivelled around, and he thought she'd glare at him, but instead a most pathetic pout was fixated on her face. She stuck out her tongue.

"_Quiet you_."

"How can you be so brilliant and calculating, and then do something as childish as stick out your tongue and pout? Here I've been waiting to find out what you had done with that loudmouthed Hermione Granger, year 7, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Seems she's still in there somewhere." They shared a long look then- Draco's amused, where Hermione's was, well not amused in the least. "Glad you're on our side though," he offered, and when she momentarily looked disbelieving, he continued hurriedly. "No, no. I really am. I know we won't lose. I know you'll come up with a brilliant idea. Father said that we would have been in trouble, you know, if the Order had listened that night. That Snape didn't have time to get back and warn them. You closed the loopholes, you provided a solid plan to take out a great deal of the inner circle."

"Ah, yes. Professor Snape was quiet vehement on the Order not putting it into play. He could have pulled me aside afterwards and-"

"Ah, yes, Miss Granger. I believe your strategy was a brilliant plan. Why don't you come with me and propose it to the Dark Lord and we'll show those unappreciative bastards that it had merit?" They nearly jumped out of their seats as the voice filtered through the room. Snape was in the doorway, no emotion crossing his features, save the gleam in his eyes. It was subtle, but they both knew it was a sign of his amusement.

"Precisely," she laughed. "Where was the common sense? I could have been recruited ages ago. Best friend to Harry Potter and muggleborn, what was holding you guys back? I practically had the dark mark on my forehead!"

Draco made a soft noise in his throat and stared at her in an unsettling way. Not sure why, she felt a blush creep up her cheeks, and she turned back to her parchment and crumbled it up. Flames licked out between her fingers and soon, whatever she had been working on, was obliterated. She smirked at the control she was beginning to have with her wandless fire.

"I think I've got it." And that was all she said before shooting them a feral grin. Severus raised his eyebrow, and Draco gulped. He trusted her, _really_, but he hoped that hadn't been the mission plan she had thrown away. The girl liked to improvise way too much.

Hermione had left after that, and seeing that Draco was distracted, Snape had dismissed him shortly after. The boy waited in the common room, reading, and Hermione came in several hours later with a burlap sack in hand. Draco was about to inquire about it, but before he could she unceremoniously emptied it onto the coffee table. He stared at the pile of medieval weapons that came clattering out, some spilling over to the floor. With a sinking feeling, he knew that _this_ was her great plan.

"Just because you seem to enjoy bashing someone's skull in by hand, doesn't mean I do. Is there something wrong with our wands?"

"Absolutely not, but centaurs don't respect magic, even if its powerful. Our wands are surely our best weapon, but they're not getting us where we need to go. If we arm ourselves to the teeth, maybe they'll be more willing to listen! We need to look imposing." She was already rummaging through the collection, picking up the occasional dagger and examining with a grin. Her logic was sound, he would admit, but she didn't have to look so... _delighted_.

* * *

><p>It was on the following Saturday, mid November, when they trudged through the forest in broad daylight. It was technically winter, but other than a slight chill in the air, the season was late coming and it still felt like fall.<p>

By late morning, the sun shone down on them warmly. They still wore their black winter cloaks in case the night got colder and they were still here. However, they were unbuttoned and thrown open in hopes that it wouldn't get much warmer out. Their weapons were visible for the most part. Both of them had agreed on throwing knives, a spare dagger, a crossbow and a spare pack of bolts. He had put his foot down when Hermione wanted him to take a full fledged broadsword. He had barely agreed to the bow, and he sincerely hoped the centaurs hadn't watched them practice - if a fight broke out it was definitely the last thing he was reaching for. Even Hermione, who was far from the rubbish shot he was, didn't quite come close to a centaur's shooting.

Draco had his wand out, and opted to keep his weapons where Hermione had strapped them. As for his partner, she had foregone her wand altogether, and held a dagger in one hand and a crossbow in the other. Their decisions had caused them argument that morning, but in the end they could only agree to disagree, and so here they were, still frowning at the other.

Hermione didn't really see the problem. After all, if things turned ugly she could just burn the forest down. She grinned. She had been practicing a little bit here and there, and had learned that her emotions were the best fuel, and Riddles were known for their bad tempers. It was understandable why the Order wouldn't want her having free access to such a devastating spell.

Well, too bad for them.

They heard something coming, though it was obvious it was intentional, so they respectfully stopped and waited for whatever centaur was coming to collect them.

"I am Ronan. You are passing into centaur lands." She knew Ronan was a younger and more peaceful centaur. His shock of red hair was wild against his pale complexion, and from a distance, he almost looked human (if you disregarded the bottom half). He was small for his age, and didn't have nearly as many scars as the older ones she had seen. He also hadn't quite achieved the same level of leathery skin that came from decades of windburn. Regardless, he cut an imposing figure.

"My name is Draco Malfoy. This is Hermione Riddle. I assume you know why we have come." The centaur nodded gravely, and turned his back to them, leading them further into the forest.

"Come along, then."

While they followed him for a good half an hour, Hermione mulled over the fact that even Draco seemed to stumble on her formal name. It was comforting that at least someone other than her had trouble switching back and forth, based on need. When they finally arrived, it seemed that the whole tribe had been summoned. Draco dropped to his knee immediately, then glared back over his shoulder until she followed suit. Bane came forward, looking angry and put out at the human's presence. He took no time getting to the matter at hand.

"We do not yield to humans, not even your master, _children_." Draco rose to his feet, and Hermione copied him again, but stood behind him. They had agreed that Draco would do most of the talking since he was the better diplomat. Over the years, she had found herself gaining an increasingly sharp and uncontrollable tongue. Even now, she took offence to Bane's disregard, whereas Draco just shrugged it off as if he didn't quite hear the mocking tone or title.

Her attention wove in and out at the proceedings as Draco tried to talk sense and politics with the centaur. Her feet fell asleep, and when Draco's tone turned desperate, her attention came back fully to the conversation. Her patience was wearing thin.

"We are not asking you to yield," pleaded Draco, finally. "But if you will not fight, at least promise you will not be persuaded by Dumbledore. You will be rewarded for either action."

"Humans are not to be trusted!"

"No more than centaurs!" Irritated, Hermione pushed past her partner. This was taking far too long, and they were losing the argument. Some of the centaurs skittered in offence, Ronan looked surprised, and Bane and Magorian looked downright murderous. "Just like humans, centaurs have their moments of mistrust. Are you trying to tell us that a centaur has never before betrayed the trust of the colony? _Never_?" She didn't have to say the name Firenze. She, herself, did not see his infraction as dire, but the fact that the centaur could not return to the forest without the herd attacking him, spoke volumes. "We do not ask for your allegiance lightly. We need your people to help us, and like Draco said, you will be rewarded. Name your price."

"You cannot afford our help."

"You cannot afford to deny it."

"You dare threaten us?" Magorian nearly charged her, and only stopped a foot away.

Though she was much smaller and had to crane her head back, she matched his glare even as he pulled an arrow from his quiver. Without thought, flames began to lick along her fingers. Draco grabbed her wrist, and when she felt something cold and wet seep down her wrist, she got the hint and let her flames extinguish. Ripping her hand from his grasp, Hermione turned back to the centaur, who said nothing, but obviously had not missed the exchange.

"Name your price," she repeated through gritted teeth. "We did not come here to insult you, and I apologize if that is what I've done. You think we cannot afford your help, which I find unfair, since you have not consulted us on what it is exactly that we can and can't afford." Bane studied the girl in front of him. She was either very brave, or very foolhardy.

"Fine, but first, you will complete a test." When she didn't argue, he continued. "As you may have heard, Hagrid's _pet_ died last spring. With Aragog and Mosag both gone, a colony of flesh eating, hungry children have been left without a leash. Despite popular belief, the forest does have a working order. It is dishonourable to attack another creature's home, or try to expand personal boundaries by force. Aragog's children are out of control – they traverse the entire forest, eating everything in their sight. Even unicorns, which are off limits no matter where they are, have been found murdered. We have lost three of our centaurs so far, and can no longer travel alone. These beasts need to be dealt with. While you take care of this, we will discuss a price. Until this issue is resolved, we cannot fight in your war."

A chill ran up Hermione's spine. An out of control acromantula colony was the last thing she wanted to deal with, but if she declined, this conversation was over.

"Aragog had hundreds of children, did he not? You want us to hunt down every single one?"

"No, of course not. The children themselves are not all bad. However, his eldest son has taken command. He sits on his father's throne, and orders his spiders to invade territories that are not their own. The second to the throne would control them much better, and so your job is to infiltrate and destroy the son. Appoint the daughter, and make sure they understand the severity of their actions." Easy enough, right?

"This sucks," she muttered, half an hour later, holding her illuminated wand up. Bane had been anxious to tell them that the spiders were preparing to hibernate, and that this was actually the most favourable time to carry out this task. If it was so favourable, why weren't the centaurs storming this cave where hundreds, if not thousands, ginormous spiders were holed up? _Favourable my ass_, she thought darkly.

"Centaurs are extremely claustrophobic," Draco offered, as if reading her mind. It didn't make her feel any better.

Spiders were everywhere. They nestled into alcoves, along the floor, on the walls and sometimes even on each other. The deeper they went, the bigger they got, which was good because Hermione felt a little bad when she stepped on a tarantula sized baby near the entrance, effectively squishing him. A lot of the spiders had fallen into their deep sleep already, so luckily they didn't wake as she nearly screamed and then gagged subsequently.

It was almost as gross as having to actually climb over the large ones further in. It reminded her of one of those carnival obstacle courses you go through as a kid, only instead of clambering up ropes and cushioned bumps, they were scaling the sides of gigantic, hairy spiders. _Wonderful_.

They reached the centre with little difficulty, and as they stood staring at what could only be the leader, Hermione realized that they probably _had_ come at the most opportune time. Otherwise they would have had to fight an entire colony just to get this close. Draco shrugged at her, and she could see they were thinking the same thing: Was it really going to be this easy?

She motioned him forward – it was his quest after all, even if she had been the one to provoke the centaurs into giving them such a task. Draco cast a freezing charm on the giant spider and immediately followed it with a Reducto, which had become quite destructive.

They stared at each other grimly as the entire cavern began to stir, the order to hibernate from their leader apparently cut off. Draco sent a Lumos Maxima to help them see what was going on - the spiders could already see them clearly so the advantage was purely theirs. Draco turned and clambered on top of the platform, and with a flick of his wand, sent whatever pieces were left of the leader flying to the ground below. It was disrespectful, they both thought, but the message was clear: _We killed your leader_. _Brutally._ _Be wary of attacking us_. She hoped the mass wasn't smart enough to realize one sleeping spider, no matter who it was, wasn't much of a feat.

It was customary for the acromantula to move in and eat their dead leader, even if it wasn't much, but it seemed for now that the entire colony was frozen with indecision. Apparently grogginess on waking wasn't exclusive to the human race. Before they could assemble, Draco expanded his arms and prepared to shout at the forming mass. She guarded him from below, seemingly calm on the outside, but in reality her muscles were tense, and adrenaline was coursing through her. Her body was preparing for a fight.

"Where is the next in line? Where is the eldest daughter of Aragog and Mosag?" His voice bellowed through the cavern, magically amplified which made his tone far more convicting. They could show no fear, or else the spiders would seize the opportunity to attack them. They may have just been two small humans, but they were wizards. Both had their wands at the ready, and though they were young, they were no children. Both of them exuded varying degrees of danger and confidence.

Slowly, a large spider, but still smaller than the one they had just killed, skittered forward out of the crowd and approached Draco. His wand immediately trained itself on the threat.

"I am the eldest daughter of Aragog and Mosag. Will you execute us one at a time?"

"No," he said. "We are not here to exterminate you. We are here on behalf of the centaurs," with that, there was an uncertain ripple through the crowd. The centaurs ruled the forest, and though they were simple creatures carrying out strict orders, they knew that the centaurs would have been coming sooner or later. Even the spiders who had willingly carried out the will of the last leader, felt that maybe they were in danger for their actions. Draco continued: "They wish to convey a message, and I am their messenger. Your brother overstepped his bounds. He knew the rules, yet sought to expand his kingdom. If the pact between centaur and acromantula is broken again, they will regretfully have to destroy your colony. They want you, eldest daughter of Aragon and Mosag,to take command and control the others, and uphold the treaty of the forest. Will you accept this role?" The sister hesitated before giving her answer. She had never wanted to rule, but her family depended on her to do so now. To let someone else take the throne was not only suicide for her, but would possibly bring down the wrath of the centaurs on her family.

"I will."

"We apologize for disrupting your sleep. We'll be leaving now." He awkwardly climbed down to meet Hermione, and the two of them tried to walk as calmly as they could out of the cave. They almost made it out of the main cavern when there was a flurry of movement. Hermione blasted two of the attacking spiders, and Draco sent one flying to the far end of the cave with a thud. A third came flying towards them and would have had them, but it froze as the new leader sent her web of command out to stop him. They didn't let their guard down as some more of the spiders surrounded them, but as they looked up for an explanation, they realized that this was their escort out. Her message was clear – the two humans would go unharmed.

The sigh was audible from both of them when they exited the cave. The spiders, even the ones near the entrance, all withdrew deeper. She wondered if their defence had changed, and if the daughter was drawing them in closer to prevent further assassination. Though a bit frightening, the test itself was much easier than they anticipated.

The centaurs looked surprised to see them return while there was still light, although not much, and Draco wasted no time in telling them that they had completed the mission set out for them to do. He offered a bit of leg she hadn't seen him take to the leaders, and they all stared at it, obviously disgusted.

"Very well. While you were gone we discussed your request, and have come to a decision."

They said nothing, but Draco just inclined his head slightly and encouraged Magorian to continue.

"We want the mile of forest back from the humans. Centaurs are her rulers and protectors. We are, what you would call: judge, jury and executioner. However, for hundreds of years we've had to answer to your people, especially the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"This is a reasonable request. Your race is bound by honour, so I assume we do not need to tell you that the grounds belong to us. After the war, the forest is yours. The castle and her grounds remain ours, unless, of course, any creatures wish to come and go in peace."

"Of course. Which brings us to the matter of the castle. We will keep neutrality if you do the above, but when the war comes, we will only fight if you have successfully freed her and promise to keep her as such." Hermione nodded, then, as it was obviously a stipulation that directly involved her.

"I have no intention in binding her again. She has agreed to stay bound until the war, however, so please keep this in mind." Magorian held up his hand and stepped forward, silencing the small ripple of whispers that had tore through the crowd.

"Very well. We have one more request for after the war." His eyes trained on Hermione, and feeling a bit apprehensive, she nodded to imply that she was listening. "We wish the Ark repaired." Both Draco and Hermione froze at this, as if they'd been hit with sledgehammers.

"The Ark – we wouldn't know how to fix such a thing," Draco stammered, spreading his hands apologetically. Magorian, who had not ceased staring at Hermione, now nodded at her.

"If she can repair the castle, she can repair the Ark. The two are very similar, and it is not as hard as you may think, just time consuming. We will help you when the time comes. Do you agree?"

Draco looked to Hermione.

"I will help you if you want, but it's your call." Her voice was uneven as she asked her next question.

"Is there anything else?"

"No. We are content not to be involved in the politics of wizards. Everything else has been covered."

"Then it is done." Both Bane and Magorian frowned.

"You answer too quickly, foal." Ronan's voice was soft, but accusing.

"And you jump to accusations too quickly," she shot back. "These things are all within our power to give you, and the last is my decision alone. We do not need to converse with my father on this. Your cooperation is much appreciated." The centaurs looked upset, and Hermione felt that she may have answered too quickly after all. Draco came to the rescue.

"I understand that you do not like magic," he offered, "But if it will reassure you, we can perform an Unbreakable Vow." Hermione stared at Draco. Unbreakable vows were not taken lightly, and between human and centaur, they were unheard of.

"We would want the girl," Bane replied carefully, after a long silence. The two leaders gave each other sullen expressions. They didn't like magic, but they knew what was being offered, and yes, it would make them feel better. The stars may tell them what was to come, but unless it was immediate, humans always had a tendency to have very vague futures that changed a lot. It was one of the reasons that they couldn't be trusted. That, and if they caught even a whiff of prophecy, no matter how insignificant, they usually tried their hardest to purposely change it. Humans hated being told what they would and wouldn't do.

"Of course." She gulped and stared at Draco, and he stared back, pulling out his wand. Magorian approached her and held out his arm. She gripped it firmly and resolutely, and raised her chin slightly, hoping to show him that she wasn't frightened. Truth was, she had every intention of keeping her promise, but something about having no choice about the matter made her wary. Magorian was studying her silently, and so before her thoughts could betray her, she cleared any emotion from her face before he saw something he didn't like.

"Will you, Hermione Riddle, vow that you will do everything in your power to return the Forbidden Forest to the centaurs, who, in turn, will fight alongside our cause in the war to come?" She tried not to sigh in relief. She did not think the centaurs were dishonourable enough to trick her into an Unbreakable Vow, but it still made her feel better that Draco was closing the loopholes. They would _have_ to fight in order for the vow to be valid. She silently thanked the heavens that he, at least, knew what he was doing.

"I will."

"And will you, to the best of your ability, repair both the castle and Ark to its original states?"

"I will." She thought that was it, but as Draco went to finish the spell, Magorian narrowed his eyes and answered, without releasing her wrist:

"And I vow, that on the penalty of death, that when the castle is restored to her original state, our centaurs will fight beside the army of Tom Riddle." The entire clearing stood in shocked silence as Draco nodded and bound the two together. The magic that wrapped itself around their wrists faded, but she knew it was still there. Both of them flexed their hands experimentally. Centaurs usually didn't go back on their word, but hey, if he wanted to join in and promise on the penalty of death, neither Draco or Hermione would stop him.

Ronan escorted them out of the forest afterwards, and wished them well until they met again. They split up at the forest line, and Hermione handed him her weapons and went to visit Hagrid, while Draco looped around near the lake and made his way back to the castle without her.

* * *

><p>When she came into the common room later, she was swept off her feet and twirled around.<p>

"We are freeeeee!" came his laughing voice, and he continued to twirl her around as he drew out the 'e' for several seconds. She clung to him as she hollered, the ability to torch him to a crisp being drowned by the wish to not kill him. So she was left to his mercy, and screamed like a girl as the room in circles.

"Draco, put me down! Draco! I'm going to puke on you!" He slowed his spinning then, laughing, and she found it contagious. She beat him around the shoulders until he put her down. Still laughing, when she looked at him, that carefree, mischievous look that he had regarded her with at Malfoy Manor was back. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"No more missions until after winter hols," he exclaimed. "We get to be students!" She stared at him incredulously, and then a grin split her face. He had already reported in, she realized, and they must have both been given leave to take the next month off. Her father must really appreciate what they had done, and she vowed to never let on how easy it had been.

They settled on the couch to read as they normally did, but instead of their designated sides, they were practically on top of each other. Hermione experimentally moved away on two different occasions, but Draco bumped after her each time, which left them both on her side now. Finally, she looked over at him and intended to demand why he was so close.

Her remark was cut short when she realized he was looking at her, face only a few inches away. His eyes still glittered, and he still looked amused. He was blushing lightly, though she didn't know why. It could be from amusement, or from the effort of chasing her across this couch, or... well only Merlin knew! She decided she would tell him to shove off to his own side after all.

"What?" came the small squeak instead. She scowled, but he just grinned wider and hesitantly, reached up to push a stray curl behind her ear. Now she felt her own blush race across her cheeks, and as if he was trying to hide the deepening of his own, his face moved closer until she was forced to close her eyes from proximity. At least, that's what she told herself.

They had held hands. And sure, they had hugged (though usually it was when one of them was breaking down in one way or another). She couldn't say the thought had crossed her mind prior to now, but as his lips moved against hers, she realized it wasn't unwelcome. Hermione may not have sat around daydreaming about him, but she hadn't ignored the fact that he was attractive, and smart, and brave, and- she moaned lightly against his mouth as he deepened their kiss, and any rational thought she had flew out the window.

As for Draco, he would never say it out loud, but he _had_ been thinking about her. Ever since the incident on her birthday, she had left her mark. After the Ark, he knew that she would be the best friend he had ever had. No one would understand him the way she did, and he would never take the time to understand anyone else the way he understood her – after all, there was no point. No one was as interesting. _No one_.

He loved the way her eyes flared at the smallest provocation, or how her magic would visibly crackle whenever she was pissed off. She knew better than he did when she had to be strict with him, or when she had to be genuinely concerned. Most of all, he loved when she laughed. Slytherins guarded their emotions fiercely, and the way Hermione expressed herself so freely and honestly was alluring. So tonight, after they returned from the forest (and no matter how easy Hermione made it sound – he had still nearly peed his pants when all those spiders woke up and looked at them like bacon) he decided he couldn't hold it in any longer.

Draco had never really cared for a girl before, so he had found a shyness he didn't know he had. He was famous in Slytherin for flirting, but not much else, as he couldn't be bothered with such shallow and easy victories. He figured with any other girl he would have just scooted up, wrapped his arm around, and made his move, and to be honest, he had honestly tried that approach. But Hermione had scooted away, and though he found it amusing, he didn't want to screw things up. He also didn't want his ashes sent home tomorrow morning to his father.

In the end, his plan had worked fairly well, even though it was clear that he was nervous and embarassed when she finally paid him mind. But his flush of embarrassment turned to a flush of victory when he felt her hands thread through his hair and pull him closer.

When they parted, after what seemed like hours of absolute bliss, they just stared at each other. He scooted back to his side and opened his book, pretending to read. The book must have changed languages since he last opened it, he thought. It suddenly looked foreign. She was still staring at him, which, if he wasn't forced to already, made him think about her more.

"Come to the Malfoy Yuletide Ball with me!" he blurted, finally looking over at her again. "We combine it with New Years. It'll be great." She opened and closed her mouth a few times before replying:

"If the Order is willing to release me – sure. Certainly. Of course." He smirked.

"I know what 'sure' means, Hermione. But thank you for clarifying just in case." She shot to her feet and narrowed her eyes, then turned to stomp from the room. Before she left though, she awkwardly stomped back to him, and leaned down. Her eyes were fixated on the wall behind him and he thought about teasing her on it, but opted to stay silent.

"I'd love to go, Draco," she said quietly, but resolutely, without falter. "Goodnight." And with that, she planted a chaste kiss on his cheek, before retreating to her room. He sat in the common room for a long time after that, still staring at the same page of his book, but this time with a silly grin plastered on his face.

* * *

><p>When they realized that they really were left with a good month to relax, they did just that. They savoured their routines as normal students, knowing it would not last for much longer. Neither one of them stalked around the castle looking murderous anymore, and Draco even ceased taunting the other houses at every opportunity. When they were alone, they never spoke about what transpired, but goodnight kisses were common. Draco started to read with his head in her lap, but never the other way around in fear that he would embarrass himself. The two of them called a visible truce (but publicly, nothing more), which sent the student body reeling with shock.<p>

Soon after, the Golden Trio was having an argument, which wasn't rare in itself, but usually didn't spill over into classes. Potions was a little tense, and the way Harry shot looks at Draco while Ron and Hermione whispered angrily at each other, he assumed it was concerning her newfound tolerance towards the Head Boy. He itched to do something about it, but really, it would probably make it worse and she clearly had everything under control. While Ron was being reprimanded by Snape for being obnoxiously loud, Hermione dropped a fat slug into his brew. Silence was demanded afterwards, so no one had the chance to tell Ron about his misfortune. The class continued without interruption, but at the end, when they tested their potions, Ron broke out into uncontrollable sobbing. His apparent distress didn't stop Snape from audibly failing him, which caused the wailing to become louder and almost unbearable. Immediately, Draco realized that the slug had caused the calming draught to have quite the opposite reaction, and Hermione levelled a thin, dangerous smile at Harry, daring him to say something to Professor Snape about what she had done.

Naturally, he had to do no such thing, as Snape had held her back after class anyway. Draco wasn't sure why - was he going to tell Hermione not to be so openly hostile? He couldn't possibly punish her, could he? Weasel had more than deserved it. Alone in the third floor corridor, he had a good laugh to himself. When he saw her pop out from an entrance ahead he hadn't been expecting, he raced up behind her. With a quick look around, nabbed her and pulled her into a broom closet.

She accepted him with little resistance, and for a good five minutes they made out. Apparently Ron had pissed her off more than he thought, or Snape had not been pleased with her behaviour, because she was never this wound up. In fact, normally she probably would have pushed him away and made an escape - not that he had prior experience to base this on. It just seemed like something she would do.

Their exchanges thus far had always been innocent, if not playful, but this time they were losing control, and he pushed her robe away from her shoulders. His mouth travelled down her neck and the top buttons of her shirt were ripped open. He couldn't see very well in this light, but as his mouth travelled into her cleavage, he realized it didn't matter. He had died and gone to heaven. Robes were so unflattering, he thought, and his hands snaked under her skirt and lifted her clean off the ground. She was perfect. Curvy in all the right places, but still small and light and easily lifted. Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his midsection, and as they tumbled toward the wall he thrusted himself against her. Her moan of ecstasy did nothing to deter him, and he squeezed her bottom firmly.

All he had to do was unbutton his pants and push the flimsy fabric of her panties aside, he thought. He could have her right here, and the thought of burying himself inside of her like this was more than he could handle. Draco felt the blood roaring in his ears, like a waterfall, and decided it was probably draining from his brain and straight to his throbbing arousal, which was now being rubbed fiercely against the Head Girl.

He couldn't, not here, he kept thinking. Maybe another time, but he didn't want their first time to be a fumbling attempt in a Hogwarts broom closet. Actually, he didn't care much, but girls usually did. But it felt so wonderful and she wasn't denying him, so maybe not? Maybe just a little more, he negotiated with himself. He'd keep his pants on, but maybe she wouldn't mind...

One of his hands snaked around between them, and though she must have realized what he was doing, when he pushed the fabric aside and entered a finger into her, she nearly screamed in pleasure. It wasn't working out like he wanted, he thought, he only meant to stroke her and then force himself to withdraw. But he was pumping two fingers into her now, and could feel her walls quiver around him as waves of pleasure washed over her.

"Not here. Can't..." he muttered finally, out loud. She must have had the same argument in her head, because she nearly growled and grabbed his erection.

"The fuck we can't," and if either of them had any reservations about losing their virginity in a Hogwarts broom closet, it would have to be in the form of regret later. She pushed him away from her, then unzipped his pants hastily and tugged them down around his ankles. Before he could pull her up and deposit her in the position he wanted, her hot mouth slid over his length. _Oh Merlin_, he thought frantically, I'm going to lose it right here. He should have learned some sort of endurance spell before this. He should have taken her five minutes ago, when he would have been confident he could last. He tried to think about anything but the way her mouth felt. It was a shame, he thought sadly, that he had been reduced to dwelling on things he found unappealing, just in hopes that he could last long enough. Finally, he forced her to release him and stand. He could imagine the confused expression she wore, but he grabbed her and lifted her into the same position as before. Instead of grinding himself against her this time, though, he shoved her underwear aside and slid into her. He was sure he hurt her as he met some resistance, but it didn't seem she minded much when she gripped onto him for dear life and let out a small, aroused wail of delight.

Draco moved the best he could in this position, and wished there was more light so he could see her face. He thought how delightful it would be in the future, watching her breasts bounce in perfect timing to his thrusts. He imagined how she would bite her bottom lip in pleasure and crane her head back, leaving her neck exposed. He faltered as he reached a hand up and ripped her shirt the rest of the way open, then forced a breast out and latched onto a nipple with his mouth. As he sucked and rolled it between his teeth, he used his leverage to pin her against the wall and tear down her bra fully with both hands. When he was content, he began bouncing her again. Draco may not be able to see them, but the harder he thrust into her, the more sound they made as they slapped back against her skin, which was wet with perspiration by now. He originally had thought this may have been solely for his benefit, but when Hermione's volume increased, he suspected that she was enjoying it just as much as him.

He thanked the heavens silently that he had had half a mind to cast a silencing charm on the closet, because just before he felt her tighten, she let out nothing less than a shriek of pleasure. As soon as he realized what had happened, he sighed in relief and let his own control go. His shout of pleasure was muffled by her shoulder as he emptied himself inside of her. They stayed like that for several minutes, their panting loud in the sudden silence that followed.

Finally, carefully, he removed himself from her and let her down slowly. His muscles were screaming in overuse, but he didn't care. Neither one of them said anything, but he heard Hermione cast a few cleaning spells and the rustle of her clothes being put back the way they should be. He followed suit, though he had much less to do, and when she was sure that they were both decent, the light from the hallway filtered through the doorway. She stepped out and did a physical examination of herself. He nodded to her that she looked presentable – the girl did a good job in the dark, and wondered what her reaction would be.

She didn't say anything, and despite the fact that her face was still flushed from the encounter, it was a bit too serious for his liking. He hesitated and fidgeted with his tie, but before he could worry further, the side of her mouth quirked to one side.

"I'm late for Charms," and she turned, leaving a grinning Head Boy in the broom closet to finish cleaning himself up. He'd have to skive off class that day, he realized. Magic may erase any traces of what they had done – but two students don't go strolling into class together, fifteen minutes late, red faced and out of breath. Yup, he decided as he turned towards the kitchens, intent on getting a bite to eat. This whole normal student thing sure was nice.

* * *

><p>Mandy Bucklebee had not bothered her, and though Hermione had no fondness for the girl, she would occasionally stop beside her on the way to her seat and ask, "Alright there, Mandy?" This seemed to embarrass the girl more than anything, and she would mumble her thanks and say that everything was great, and stare at her plate as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. After the outburst on Halloween, the Gryffindors refused to come to her, save a few of the younger years. On the other hand, the other houses would occasionally ask for her help now. Because they were respectful of the time they were taking, and because Hermione had gone so long without having to attend to Head Girl duties (to her, at least), she happily provided them what they needed. Her change of attitude was noted by everyone, and the only people who didn't seem to accept it was her own house. As she sat quietly through her meals and helped herself to the feast, she didn't mind that Harry and Ron were ignoring her. Ginny looked like she wanted to come join her, but every time she got up to do so, Ron would shoot her a look. Apparently he was now the leader of the Hogwarts Weasley clan, and Hermione felt a little bad for Ginny, who was being thrown in the middle of this spat, or whatever it was. She would often look longingly at the Slytherin table. Draco seemed to be as popular as always, the other students around him lively and engaged in conversation. It looked like fun over there, and for once she wished that House seating rules didn't forbid her from picking up her plate and leaving. Sometimes he would look up at her, and wink, and sometimes she would smile at him or advert her gaze. Sometimes she even blushed, though she didn't know why. Surely there was no crime in looking at him. Maybe it was the thought of what they were going to do later. Sex was a relatively new concept to her, but it wasn't unwelcome. The way his eyes glittered across the hall at her implied that he felt the same way.<p>

Some days they would spend their spare in the library together, and others they would retreat to their rooms. By the end of November, they were still pretending to be nothing more than good friends, and when the snow still hadn't set in for the season, he started taking her out to toss a Quaffle back and forth.

At first, Hermione thought this was unfair, because Draco had such a nicer broom and therefor did much better. When he let her ride his, she realized it didn't matter. The type of broom only mattered if you had an ounce of skill. Hermione was still rubbish, but she found herself laughing more than once as Draco had to dive for the ball _and_ help her back on the broom. On the ground, she could catch and throw wonderfully. Apparently they weren't the only ones who noticed this, because one morning, two Hufflepuffs approached them with a rugby ball. With delight, they started playing that. After all, it didn't require renting a pitch, nor did it require any flying talent.

Blaise joined in a few days later, bringing a few of the Slytherins with him. The Hufflepuffs were reluctant at first, because the Slytherins were a little on the brutal side, but soon found they could pummel into them just as hard. As the House known for helping others, they were sure keen on helping the other team bruise.

The Ravenclaws would sometimes join in, but otherwise sat on the sidelines cheering at the strange unity that the houses had formed. The teams were open for anyone, but were usually made up of sixth and seventh years. The first years, at first no matter the house, loved to watch. Sometimes they would go off to side and play their own game, one that didn't involve them being murdered by the larger kids, but would soon return. They enjoyed the level of skill and lack of reserve that the older kids showed.

After several games, it was silently noted by everyone that the Gryffindors never joined in. Soon, even their young watchers disappeared. The suspicion was proven one day when a younger one looked on, but was dragged away by their friends. "Slytherin's playing," they muttered. Merlin forbid. With the dark looks that Harry and Ron were shooting her during meals, she had no need to be curious where the strange boycott had come from.

Though different faces came and went on certain days, they found that by the end of the second week, the game was almost as popular as Quidditch. Hermione was still the only Gryffindor to ever play, but she didn't care much.

There still had been nothing more than thick frost by the second week in December, so everyone still came out, expecting a match. Several students, who had purposely underdressed themselves knowing that they would warm up once they got going, hopped foot to foot. Hermione looked around and had to laugh. There had to be about thirty people who wanted to play today, and another twenty on the sidelines. Draco and Hermione were team leaders today, and she was about to pick a stocky sixth year Ravenclaw when a familiar flash of red hair caught her eye.

"Ginny?" She called out excitedly, and the younger Weasley pushed her way to the front with a smile.

"Um, hi. Can I play too?" There was a ripple of excitement through the crowd at the question. Apparently the delight and surprise of finally having another Gryffindor wasn't exclusive to Hermione alone. Though the Head Girl was a Gryffindor herself, she didn't count for some reason. Ginny would be the first one who had broken her House's rule.

"Of course! Ginny, to my team!" The girl found herself shoved in Hermione's direction, and the two girls looped arms happily.

She found they made an excellent pair. Hermione would never admit it out loud, but she never cared for winning much. Sure, it was nice, but she found it more exhilarating to tackle someone, even if she didn't come out on top. The others would laugh themselves breathless when the Head Girl went charging into a group with a battle cry, as if one on five was completely acceptable. Their games kept a steady flow of students going through the Hospital Wing.

Now Hermione had someone else who had the same play style that she did, and together the two girls threw themselves recklessly against whatever was thrown at them. The game was cut short one afternoon when Hermione fractured her arm, and Ginny twisted an ankle. Both girls were carried to the infirmary like heroes, by both teams, and they laughed and couldn't help but enjoy themselves despite the pain. Pomphrey, of course, was appalled.

The next time, when they were fully recovered, neither girl hesitated to do it again, though most of the Hufflepuffs scuttled away, laughing. The girls of Gryffindor were fearless, and soon they were recognized for who they were, and not just Ron's sister and the Golden Trio's bookworm. Or maybe Hermione had already shaken that title in favour for 'the cranky Head Girl'. Who knew? Who cared?

The Saturday before Christmas break, the first real snowfall of the year fell on them. They woke in the morning to find snow up past their knees and still heavily falling. Despite this, Hermione and Draco were both bombarded during breakfast. No one wanted the last Saturday to go without a rugby match, and caught up in the good humour of the castle, they both agreed to come. She didn't miss the scathing look that Ron shot in her direction.

Rugby was slow that day, but still enjoyable. Everyone was tripping and sliding and falling. Finally, about fifteen minutes in, the rugby ball was lost and all hell broke loose. The match wordlessly turned into a gigantic snowball fight with wrestling on the side. Ravenclaws turned over their benches and with a few waves of their wands, built a wall of ice. Their books were forgotten, and soon snowballs were flying over the wall towards the others. There were no spectators this time. Close to seventy students were engaged in an all out war.

It spread like Fiendfyre, and forts began to pop up all over the place. Sacrificial students were sent to throw themselves on, and hopefully destroy, the enemy barricades – if they could get that far, and as soon as one was down, everyone else would concentrate fire. Draco at one point stood on his hill of snow and shouted an order to attack the Ravenclaws, but with a sweep of her hand, Hermione's snowball hit him square in the face and he tumbled out of sight. Afterwards, she dropped the ground, laughing, with her hands over her head as she was pelted with snow.

Someone hollered: "Cease fire! Civilian!" and all eyes turned to a second year Gryffindor, bundled up snugly. Hermione charged him first, for a completely different reason though, and screamed for him to hide. Cease fire meant you literally had about five seconds to beat it. She raked him up just in time to miss the first wave, and went scuttling behind one of the forts. It didn't matter who's it was – allegiances changed with every snowball thrown. She looked around and saw Draco and Ginny crouched nearby.

The small boy, stuttering in either shock or excitement, told Hermione that her presence had been requested by the Headmaster. She and Draco shared a nervous look. What would Dumbledore possibly want to speak to her for? Ginny raised a suspicious eyebrow at the look the two shared, but said nothing.

The small boy peeked longingly around the corner of the fort, and Hermione crouched down beside him, eyes twinkling. "Alright, then, but we're a player short now. Think you could do me a favour and take my spot?" The second year's eyes widened to saucers. He looked at the other kids playing, who all seemed much bigger than him. She beckoned the boy closer.

"In this snow, it's hard for anyone to tackle anyone else, and it feels like landing on a cushion. If you get surrounded, just throw snow in their face or play dead!" Ginny gave him a nod, and even Draco gave a whoop of encouragement. He smiled shyly at the two older kids, and she tied his wool cap tighter for him. "I'm counting on you!" Then she rolled and sprinted and crawled away from the battlefield the best she could.

The remnants of snow was melting through her cloak and freezing her to the core, but the closer to the Headmaster's office she got, the sweatier her palms became. She wondered if maybe her ruse was up.

On entering, she saw Snape looking at her gravely, which didn't help much. Then again, he wasn't thrusting his thumb towards any of the exits, so maybe it wasn't so bad.

"There you are, Miss Granger!" Albus beckoned her towards the balcony, and she followed. At the edge she looked down and could see her classmates below. The battle had continued- grown even- and she frowned in annoyance that she had been called away. It looked even more magnificent from here. "Quite a feat, if I may say so myself. I don't think I've seen all the houses play together for decades."

"The Gryffindors are still shying away," she pointed out, past caring whether or not they ever joined in.

"Ah yes. Slytherin does seem to make other houses a bit wary." She wanted to point out that the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had not been so reluctant to join, and so far Ginny had run into no problems. Really, Gryffindor were the only ones being snooty in this case. But of course, it involved Harry and Ron, so the argument was invalid with the Headmaster. She remained silent.

As if back on track mentally, he clapped his hands joyfully.

"Miss Granger, I couldn't help but notice that you and Mister Malfoy have come to some sort of agreement. This is most interesting!" She felt herself go on guard immediately, and even Severus frowned from his seat. "As you know the Malfoy family has a tendancy to side with-"

"I believe they've declared neutrality, Headmaster, and unless you have proof, you cannot state otherwise. Either way, I highly doubt Draco wants to be part of this war. We are just students, after all."

"Perhaps. Perhaps. But maybe if he knew about the Order, and what it entails..." Hermione felt her blood boil. Did Albus seriously expect her to confront Draco and ask him to join a group that she wasn't even a part of? Was this old man for real? Severus saw her darkening expression before Albus did, and came to the rescue.

"We do not want to pressure the boy. Albus got the idea while watching the houses play below. Thought it might be a good time to deter him from any future action he might regret."

"You'd be an excellent bridge, Miss Granger." Albus murmured. "Naturally you're both invited to attend Order meetings this winter. Your input has been sorely missed."

She eyed Snape questionably, but he made no motion. Her input was what got her kicked out in the first place. It had never been her choice not to attend – so why was she accepted back now, under the pretence that she was wanted? Was Albus truly this short sighted, or was he afraid of something and trying to keep them on a short leash? Or maybe, she thought bitterly, he couldn't pass up the chance. Maybe he got some sick satisfaction from the prospect of having Riddle's daughter turn another prominent family against each other. Wouldn't that just be rich? She imagined the two sides facing off and Albus doing a little jig of victory, his two mislead hostages on either side. Make that three, she thought, looking at Snape.

"With all due respect, perhaps you should extend the offer yourself, Headmaster."

"Oh, but I think the offer coming from you would be received much better." She looked like she was about to protest again, but her face morphed into a sly smile. It was enough to make Snape's stomach sink in fear. Albus, of course, still had his back to her, watching the proceedings below.

"Of course, you're probably right. Oh! Since Draco will probably be attending Grimmauld..." He twirled to face her in delight, but suspicion reigned him in. Albus hadn't got this far by being a completely oblivious fool. She ignored the narrowing of his eyes, and continued: "Do you think that I could be released for a short time to attend the Malfoy Yuletide Ball?" Severus' eyebrows soared near his hairline, but he schooled his expression before the Headmaster could see. It was the first time he had heard of this. Albus looked shocked.

"Miss Granger, despite Draco's good intentions, I doubt his family would be very welcoming. Especially with your..."

"Heritage," she finished, flatly. "I thought about the same thing," and with a pleased expression she pretended it was no big deal. "It's a huge event, though. There'll be other muggleborns there, well, not many, mind you, but some! Plus the Minister of Magic will be going, and naturally there will be members of the Order." She could see Albus' frown, and realized that maybe the Order _wasn't _going. She turned to Professor Snape, almost pleadingly. "_You're_ going, aren't you, Professor?"

"I am, in fact." Honestly, Severus was planning to skip the whole thing, but this had become interesting. What were those two thinking? "Like the girl says, the Malfoys have claimed neutrality. In fact, Draco's parents suggested he invite her themselves. It gets him out of having a bumbling idiot hanging off him all night, and of course, she would be key in showing the Wizarding World that the Malfoys are not... blood purists. Not to the point of murdering a guest, anyway."

Albus fretted and swivelled one of his rings nervously.

"Please, Headmaster? It's a great opportunity. I could even approach some of the officials about my apprenticeship. Or, well, lack of, in this case." Albus looked guilty for a second. He was obviously nervous about putting Hermione in range of possible Death Eaters, despite the fact that the web was supposed to hold. Severus knew this too, and they shared a long look of satisfaction. It couldn't be used as an argument, unless Albus was going to come clean about it. Albus never came clean about anything he didn't have to.

"Very well, Miss Granger. But please, _please_ do not get yourself into any trouble while there." She clapped her hands in girlish excitement.

"Oh thank you, Headmaster. _Thank you!_" The older man looked worn. This conversation had hardly been in his favour, after all. The possibilities of what could go wrong heavily outweighed what he could gain. He was going to have to rely on his arrogant assumption that no one knew, and no one would know, Hermione's true identity by the end of all this.

Later, when she was on her way to her common room to let Draco in on the plans for the next two weeks, a dark figure stood waiting for her. He was tucked away in the shadows, and she couldn't see his face, but knew his shadow, voice and aura all too well.

"You're treading on _very_ thin ice, Hermione. If Draco fails this, and you don't desert him, normally they'd just cut you loose of the Order altogether. In this case..."

"I will have to hope that his failure to tell the Order who I am, will keep him from doing anything rash, Professor. Thanks for the heads up, by the way. And the back up in there."

"Of course. Maybe in due time, we will find out why you two suddenly are incapable of being apart, or even acting as though you dislike each other." He gave her a small smile, and something told her he already knew why.

* * *

><p>AN: _Annnnnd_ I apologize for the late chapter this week. I didn't realize until 3AM Saturday morning that I would absolutely _not_ be able to finish it in time, so I couldn't even warn you guys in advance. Hopefully you all enjoyed it, late as it was, and will look forward to next week's.

As an additional note, to anyone who did not expect the broom closet scene... I'm with you. I had at least another chapter to go. The broom closet scene was supposed to be just a little make-out service, but as Draco was trying to stop himself, so was I, and then I just threw that idea right out the window. Shit happens, and apparently the author doesn't even have control of it sometimes, LOL! Oh well.

As always, I love hearing feedback, so R&R is always appreciated!


	7. Some Secrets Aren't Meant to be Kept

**CHAPTER 7**  
>Some Secrets Aren't Meant to be Kept<p>

* * *

><p>It was snowing heavily again when they stood just outside the main doors. The carriages were in the process of leaving for the station, and since Hermione had a few minutes to spare, she decided to see Draco off. He would be going home first to spend Christmas, at least, with his parents. A few days after, Professor Snape would bring him to the Order meeting for Dumbledore's futile attempt to have him switch allegiances. Meanwhile, Hermione would be meeting Harry, Ron and Ginny back in the Great Hall shortly, and instead of the train, they would all be escorted to Grimmauld together by a special portkey.<p>

She made sure his tie was straight, that his cloak was tightly clasped to keep the cold out, and then, when there was nothing else to warrant keeping him any longer, she fretfully picked some invisible lint from his shoulder. Naturally, lint did not exist when house elves did your laundry for you. One would be more likely to find blood on it, a result of torturing themselves for doing less than a perfect job.

_His hair is getting long_, she thought, brushing a stray bang away from his eyes. Draco gave her a sympathetic look.

"Are you mothering me for my benefit or yours?" She looked embarrassed for a moment, but quickly dismissed his comment with a wave of her hand.

"Mine, obviously. I just wish I could come with you."

"Well, a few more days and we can all be miserable together." She smiled a little at this, and he leaned in to kiss her temple. "And hopefully, after that, you can still come back to the Manor."

"_Hopefully? _I'll skin the old coot alive if he goes back on our deal. I _will_ be coming to the Yuletide Ball, one way or another. Then, after I have a wonderful time, I can return to my jailers, freshly reminded that anywhere is better than there." She sighed. "Oh Draco, I thought that I was ready for all this deception with the Order. It seems the more time that passes, the harder it is for me to pretend to be someone I'm not. Or maybe I'm just tired of being locked away for no reason." He looked as though he might say something to that, but a stray student hollered from the last carriage that Draco was going to miss it. He gave her hand a comforting squeeze, quickly kissed her goodbye and raced down the steps and out of sight. Dejected, she turned and trudged back into the castle.

* * *

><p>Hermione decided that it was all thanks to Ginny that the holiday wasn't a complete bust.<p>

It hadn't been her idea to sit alone on Christmas morning – she _had_ been the first one here. Ron and Harry had purposely sat across the room, and it almost seemed like Ron was trying to build a tower with his gifts to block her from his view. _Real mature, _she thought angrily while glaring at the floor and clenching her fists. _Wonder if the prat realizes that I'll reappear as he opens gifts?_

Hermione turned her attention to study her own small pile of gifts warily. She had mixed feelings about accepting anything from the Order. Unfortunately, if she refused, it would warrant immediate suspicion. She did her best to accept them graciously.

Ginny, walking in late, immediately noticed Hermione's solitude. She scooped up her gifts and came to sit by the other girl. Harry looked relieved, which surprised her. Ron, like usual, looked like his sister had just sided with the boogeyman. The few adults – Remus, Tonks and Molly - looked between the two groups curiously but said nothing. Molly more than once huffed, disappointed. As a mother, she wanted to immediately blame Hermione, however... well, years of experience forced her to admit that her son could be a little irrational at times. Ginny would not be siding against him unless he was being hotheaded. Like usual. _Oh well_, Molly decided. _These things usually work out on their own._

Hermione had gotten each boy a little something to show that though they were at an impasse, she hadn't cut them out entirely. Other than that, though, she had no idea what the boys had gotten in their haul. Unlike the boys, who were currently engulfed in a whirlwind of wrapping paper, the two young women wanted to savour the morning. Together, they slowly started to open their gifts, showing each other what they got, commenting on certain things, and trying out or tasting others.

Remus and Tonks gave them each a bag of chocolates, as they tended to do on birthdays and holidays. Mrs Weasley, who hadn't had much time this year and was extremely disappointed in herself, managed to give each of the kids a scarf and pair of mittens instead. Secretly, Hermione enjoyed this much more than an itchy jumper.

As Ginny was opening gifts from each of her brothers, Hermione reached for and opened an unlabelled present to find a nice leather bound journal inside. Eyes sweeping the room, they landed on Harry, who offered her a soft smile. She was almost too stunned to react, as she hadn't been expecting anything from either of them, but managed to mouth a thank you to him. He inclined his head and then turned his attention back to his best friend. She smiled wistfully at the small book. It was a sweet gesture, even if she couldn't use it. After all, what was she going to write about? The secrets of a normal teenager were far behind her.

After her last gift was open and neatly piled, Ginny handed her a final rectangular object, still wrapped. Hermione felt a blush creep up her cheeks. She hadn't bought the other girl anything, but Ginny, knowing exactly what her friend was thinking, waved her hand impatiently.

"It's not much, I just thought you might like it." Hermione, with a grin, peeled back the paper. Her smile faltered, but only due to shock, and as she was clearly taking too long to continue, Ginny lunged forward and ripped the final pieces of paper from the gift for her.

It was a picture frame – a simple, black wooden one that would be perfect for a bedside table.

As for the picture... well, she remembered it being taken, but never thought to ask Colin for a copy. After the meeting in Dumbledore's office, she had rushed back outside, but the fight was nearly over. Before they all went in, Colin had asked them to squeeze in together so he could take a photo. It was a mass collection – students wrapping their arms around each other, making bunny ears or funny faces. There were heads poking out from in between bodies, and kids momentarily jumping over or on taller ones in front of them. And there, in the center of it all, was her and Draco. His arm was thrown around her shoulders and they were smiling at one another, widely, unguarded.

"He was going to enchant it, at first, but we thought that it was perfect just like this. Kind of holds a charm of it's own, doesn't it?" Her voice was quiet, but Hermione could hear the touch of triumph in it. Looking closer, she found Ginny. Their arms were linked, and with her spare, she pointed towards the two in mock surprise. A few of the other students were looking their way suspiciously, but not unkindly, and Hermione realized that she had been so wrapped up in the moment she hadn't noticed. Hadn't even suspected. A blush crept up her cheeks, and at this Ginny started to tickle her. Peels of laughter cut through the living room until finally she set the frame aside and went to breakfast.

Later, Hermione was sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the photo again when Ginny knocked.

"I'm thinking about going to the park to build a snowman." Hermione's eyebrow arched.

"Are you saying that we aren't jailed inside this year?" The younger girl's face scrunched in displeasure, and she shrugged.

"Really, what are they going to do? Ground us to the house for the remainder of the holiday? _Ooo, scary_." Hermione had never really considered that maybe Ginny was as unhappy with the arrangements as she was.

They bundled themselves warmly, wearing their Christmas scarves and mittens. In the end, they decided to ask permission. Naturally they went to Remus, who was the most reasonable. They also decided he was the most gullible, because really? What kind of person would resist two young females, already bundled to the teeth, armed with the best puppy eyes that they could muster? Not to mention that the park _was_ only a hundred meters away.

Of course, he still saw them to the door. Opening it, he called after them.

"Be back by dinner. And only to the park and back!" The two girls rolled their eyes at each other.

Ginny may have only been sixteen, but Hermione, at least, was eighteen and had been considered of age in the Wizarding World for over a year now. Yet here they were, both of them being treated like children. Hermione could see Remus watching them from the corner of her eye. She sincerely hoped that he was just suspicious that they were really going somewhere else, and not just keeping an eye out to make sure they made it.

Either there weren't a lot of kids in the area, or they were caught up in their own Christmas celebrations. They had the entire park to themselves. With childlike exuberance they started rolling gigantic balls of snow until they could push them no further. Hermione would then flick her wand and levitate one on top of the other. Eagerly, they continued to roll more snowballs until the entire fenced off area had bare patches of grass poking out everywhere.

They packed and stacked and carved out their gigantic structure. Ginny pointed out they should make a snow dragon, and Hermione agreed. The younger girl also wanted to identify it as a Swedish Short-Snout when they were done, but as they both looked at it, even from various angles, they couldn't see much of a resemblance.

"Blimey! It's a Godzilla Barney!" The voice came from behind them, and the two girls whirled around to see Harry and Ron. Ron looked grumpy like usual, and stared at their creation as though it offended him. Harry, on the other hand, looked amused and laughed behind his hand. Hermione snorted and looked back. She didn't want to tell Ginny, but their fearsome snow dragon really _did_ harbour a startling resemblance.

"What's a Barney?" And giving Harry a sharp look, Hermione shook her head firmly, warningly.

"A fierce di-dragon. Dragon. Very scary. Very, uh, purple?" Harry was doing a horrible job at keeping a straight face, and finally Hermione shrugged, a grin splitting her face.

"Barney is a kid's cartoon dinosaur, Ginny. I'm sorry, but we won't be going to any snow sculpture contests together." Despite being offended at the jab, Ginny couldn't help but agree that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't the best snow dragon she had ever seen.

"Come on, Harry, let's go." Ron turned away from the group, and Hermione couldn't help but call after him.

"Go where?" Ron's look of annoyance said to drop it, but Harry meekly offered them an explanation. He looked borderline guilty, and both girls suddenly noticed both boys had brooms.

"There's a Quidditch match just outside of Southampton. About an hour by broom. It's only minor league playoffs, but we thought we'd go watch." Hermione frowned. She wasn't privy to all the movements of the Death Eaters, but Professor Snape had told them that there'd be a lot of movement this winter. A small match like that sounded like a prime place to terrorize.

"And the Order gave you the go ahead, did they?" Each boy made a different face, but the answer was the same. They hadn't asked - knowing it obviously would have been a resounding no, even from Remus.

"We'll be back before anyone misses us," Ron muttered, his eyes narrowed angrily at Hermione.

"Oh yes, I'm sure no one will notice Harry missing for hours on end. And your mother? As if you'd get even half way before she realized you _both_ were missing."

"Look, just lay off, okay? We're tired of being cooped up." Harry looked torn. He obviously wanted to go, but understood both sides. He had caused enough trouble in the past by sneaking around. And he come to expect the disapproving look from Hermione, but having Ginny mirror it didn't sit well with him. Ron, on the other hand, obviously didn't care, and had hardened his resolve.

"Listen Ron," Hermione tried, civilly, "you understand there are reasons behind rules, don't you? The Headmaster has made it clear that he doesn't want Harry gallivanting off. I'm sure that includes some Quidditch match out in the middle of nowhere." Ron approached her, pointing his finger accusingly.

"You're just jealous that we're going somewhere better than a stupid park to build a stupid snowman." She slapped his hand away when he came close enough, and in response started poking him in the chest fiercely, forcing him back a good dozen steps as she started on her tirade.

"Of course it wouldn't occur to you that I don't want to see either of you get hurt, and I especially don't want to see Harry die. If you go out to that game, it's very likely someone will catch wind of it. Someone you don't want to, and what are you going to do when a crowd of Death Eaters are swarming around you? What are you going to do when Voldemort himself shows up? I'll tell you what I'll do - I'll tell you I told you so, and then knock you upside your empty skull, even if you're already a corpse!" Ron opened his mouth to interrupt, but she poked him extra hard. "Don't _even_ say it, Ronald Weasley. I _know_ what you think. I'm a stiff. I'm a prude. I've heard it all from you, but really, I'm making a logical assessment here. You need to get it through your head - we're in the middle of a war. There's a hundred of other things you can do without putting your life at risk."

"Like build ugly dinosaurs," Ginny offered quietly, but it went unnoticed by the two teenagers that were staring each other down murderously.

"Well, if your so bloody smart, why aren't you part of the Order, huh?" It was completely irrelevant, but he was lashing out with the only insult he knew would hurt her. As expected, Hermione stiffened as if struck, and backed away a couple of steps. Content that he had had the last word, Ron climbed onto his broom and kicked off. "Harry, you coming?"

"_Fine_. If I can't _talk_ sense into you..." Before Harry could climb onto his broom, she pulled her wand and gave it a sharp flick. There was a crack, and Ron's broom exploded from underneath him. He was thrown several meters into the air from the impact, and now had no way to keep himself afloat. He tried, in vain, to grab one of the street lights on his way down, but only managed to flip over it painfully. He landed, flailing, into a snowbank, and despite the soft impact they all heard the crack as something broke. Ron's wail of pain echoed through the silence.

They were making a scene, she knew, and it was confirmed when Remus and Molly Weasley came barging from the house. Molly immediately, with impressive speed, went to her son's side. Remus came to the two girls for an explanation.

"What happened?" Unwilling to answer, Hermione shrugged and tucked her wand away.

"Must've been a faulty broom." Despite the fact that she had good, honest intentions, the boys _hadn't_ gone to the Quidditch match in the end. Most of the Order did not believe in punishing _intent_, and because she had acted (and maybe a little forcefully), she was in the wrong. They couldn't possibly appreciate the risk she had just taken, and she couldn't very well explain it to them. Still, she would not be ashamed. Not for them. Hermione would save it for when she had to explain to her father why she had just kept Harry out of his reach. Again.

She pushed past her old teacher and headed for house. Ginny, who said nothing, came jogging after her. No one spoke to her for the rest of the day, and most of the next. Remus came knocking after a skipped dinner to summon her for the meeting, and reluctantly, she followed him down to the kitchen.

The tension was thick when they entered, and she noticed Draco was seated at the far side of the table. Professor Snape on his left. There were lots of empty seats, she realized, but it was interesting to see the room was clearly divided. Remus sat on the other side of Severus, but otherwise everyone else was packed in close to Albus.

She purposely strode around the table and dropped into the empty chair beside her best friend, and silently wished Ginny was here so she didn't feel as traitorous. Her and Ron made no effort to hide their distaste in the other. He still had his arm in a sling, though it should be just about healed if Pomphrey had stopped by to take a look.

It seemed like all the younger members were involved in some sort of spat: Ron and her glared at each other; Draco glared at Ron and sometimes Harry; George, Fred and Harry were all glaring at Draco. Ignoring this, Albus started the meeting like he usually did. First was recent updates and movements of the Order - in other words, nothing that would be harmful if leaked. After, he began working his way down a list of Death Eater attacks and movements. Sure, Professor Snape had said that the Death Eaters would be on the move this winter, but she didn't think Albus would need a scroll to read off of. She studied her Professor out of the corner of her eye, but the man betrayed nothing. Her father was quite the grinch, she concluded, as the list went on. He must have some awful memories of Christmas hols if he was so keen on ruining it for everyone else.

Some families had fled Britain, whereas others had gone missing. It was unknown if they were dead, recruited, or if they had just gone into hiding. Several Christmas events had been trashed in the muggle world, which made Hermione's eye twitch involuntarily. It was one extreme or the other, she realized, and even though she supported the Death Eaters, her father's blatant disregard for human life was alarming. As if he could read her mind, Draco squeezed her hand under the table, and she squeezed back. Not keen to hear anymore, she found a rather interesting knot in the table and zoned into that.

She didn't know how long she had been zoned out, but eventually realized everyone was looking at her. _No known survivors_? It was the only thing she had heard, but still - why were they looking at her?

Ron's face was white, and Harry looked shocked. Draco was studying her silently, and Albus studied her gravely over the rims of his glasses. Molly looked like she might be sick, and Remus just regarded her with a nod. Ron muttered: "But she didn't _know_, did she?" _Oh_.

"I believe adults refer to this sort of thing as common sense, Mr Weasley. During war, one assumes that the worst will happen. They take preventive action with that in mind. Curious how many lives it's saved." When Professor Snape shot a suffering look in her direction, she wondered if he was asking her _why_ she had stopped them, or warning her to at least _pretend_ she was interested in the meeting. She shrugged. It was a valid response to either possibility.

After the list was done, Albus introduced some unrelated news. Political, social, even weather. She forced herself not to cry out in frustation. This so called Order meeting was really a big coffee break.

As for the Minister of Magic, they talked about the policies that didn't sit well with them. To her, it was a waste of time. Who cared if Rufus wanted Harry to back the Ministry, when Harry had clearly told him no more than once? And why did it matter if he was trying to raise taxes by three percent? As far as government officials went, Rufus Scrimgeour was an honest and capable man for the post. They should have been discussing whether or not they could trust him to hold the Ministry, how to surround him with their own people for his protection, and a fallback plan in the event that something happened to him. Who would they move to replace him with? Were they prepared to do so at any time? Which officials were unrelated to the Order, but were being promoted all to fast? How would they counter Voldemort's man when he popped up, ripe for taking the seat of Minister?

Draco sat stunned in his seat, suddenly understanding. The Order had the support of the Ministry. Most of the Wizarding World backed them. They were capable wizards in their own right... so why were they having such a hard time stopping Voldemort from rising? _It was this_. Unless they were purposely dumbing it down so he wouldn't be able to take any vital information back for later. He'd ask Hermione later, he thought. They couldn't possibly be this daft, could they?

At least Remus and Alastor had the decency to look bored and aggravated – as if they realized none of this information would help them win the war. Hermione thought it safe to tune out the Headmaster once again - after all, she wasn't offering her unwanted opinion, especially not now.

... _Hey_, she thought, pushing herself up from her seat excitedly,_ that knot is kind of cauldron shaped!_ If she brought a pocketknife to breakfast she could probably carve in some fumes and a ladle...

* * *

><p>There was a knock on her door around midnight, and she opened it a crack to see Draco standing on the other side. Ushering him in, she checked the hallway to make sure no portraits or people were sneaking around. Hopefully there was no Harry under his invisibility cloak, spying on the younger Malfoy. She shut the door and turned the lock, then cast a silencing charm before turning to him.<p>

"I couldn't sleep," he said, seating himself in a chair by her reading desk. "Feels like I've got to do it one eye open. It's a miracle how you or Uncle Severus get any at all. Sheesh."

"That bad, huh? I guess it might be scarier if you're assumed a traitor," she replied, her eyes dancing happily at the sight of him. Ginny was great, but she had sorely missed his company. "If Harry and Ron thought I was playing for the other team, well, that might be different. As long as Professor Snape or I are here though, you're safe. Neither of us will let anything happen to you." He rolled his eyes.

"Besides Potter and Weasley, I think everyone else would just talk to me death. These people are absolutely hopeless."

"_Ginny_ isn't bad," she offered, feeling as though she should defend her friend who wasn't an official Order member yet.

"We should recruit her." It was casual enough, but the idea bothered Hermione and she frowned.

"If she would remain neutral in the war, I'd be ecstatic. I won't turn her against her family though. And it's no secret she has feelings for Harry."

"Well, stop her."

"Pardon?"

"If you want to have even a remote possibility of having her as a friend after all this, _stop_ her from liking Potter." The thought had never occurred to her. Besides, what was she supposed to say to convince Ginny to give up on their young hero?

Noticing that he was upsetting her, he decided not to press the topic any further. Instead, he offered her a wrapped package from his robes, and she looked at it in surprise. Jumping off the arm of the chair, she went to her bags and pulled out the last of her Christmas packages. Grinning, she resumed her seat and they happily traded. Unlike her other gifts, she ripped this one open, wondering what it could be. He watched her with an amused glint in his eye. She unravelled a thin, silver bracelet. Off the chain links dangled several delicate charms. There were cauldrons, rune symbols, a wand and a dagger. Each one had a shaped gem embedded that seemed to swirl and change colour as she rotated it.

"Do not lose this, or I will be _very_ displeased." At her curious look, he gingerly took it from her and clasped it around her wrist. "You have a horrible habit of overextending yourself," he murmured. "I've been pouring all my spare mana into this for the last month. It'll automatically start to drain if you reach your body's limit. Something that you seem keen to breach on a regular basis. It will also cut you off before you kill yourself. As I said, do _not_ lose this." She stared at the bracelet in awe, wondering how much mana was stored inside. There would be no way to know until the time came. Grinning widely, she hugged him.

"Pretty _and_ practical. Thank you Draco, it's perfect." And it was. She wiggled her wrist slightly and the links and charms clinked together, making a soft, metallic echo. Excited, she gestured for him to open his gift now.

Months ago, her father had given her a second, unregistered wand. This had been her first idea, but she found out it was traditionally a gift for a parent to give a child, or an adult to get for themselves. So then she had considered a book, but there were very few that they couldn't get their hands on. Also, she wasn't entirely sure what he did and didn't have, especially at home. Anything common but expensive seemed silly and shallow - especially when gifting it to a Malfoy. They weren't exactly known as people to go wanting.

Needless to say, thinking up something for him had been incredibly hard. What do you get a guy who has, or can get, anything and everything?

Finally, she remembered something that she had read about. Unsure if they really existed or how she would go about getting one, she had gone to Snape. Snape had gone to her father, and as if it was no big deal, he got her what she wanted through a wizard who commonly traded with the merpeople somewhere in South Africa. It left her wondering what other kind of contacts that man had.

Draco unwrapped his gift with some curiosity, and was surprised to find a simple piece of jewelry tucked inside. Or, at least it looked like it.

At first glance, it looked like an aquamarine with a small hole drilled through it and looped on a thong. Holding it up he saw something in the middle. Hermione couldn't claim that she had been dumping magic into it, but hoped it would be just as useful for him. He let her take it and put it on him, like he had done with her bracelet.

"Cast something." He frowned and reached for his wand, but she snatched it from him and shook her head. "Sorry. I meant wandlessly. Oh, and water based," she added as an afterthought. After all, water spells were the only thing this stone could amplify. She could see by the change in his expression that he realized his necklace would do something in regards to this.

He had been casting it so long that he was an expert, and so when he raised his hand he aimed for the empty cup on the dresser across the room. He knew he could fill the cup and not spill a drop. On cast, his regularly thin, but constant stream of water burst from his fingers like a constrained waterfall. It exploded across the room, shattered the glass, and caused chips of paint to fly off the dresser.

He blinked, surprised, and she gave a shout of victory before casting a drying spell and banishing the victimized glass.

"Well, it'll need some practice, but obviously it's legit and will amplify your water magic. Aquamarine," she finally explained, "Special cut with Inkanyamba scale as a core. " He nodded, not quite sure what an enkayabba or whatever was, but understanding the general idea. He had heard that other countries used other natural sources to amplify magic, instead of wands. Their "advanced" Ministry had long ago passed it off as elementary and disregarded their usefulness. It was just another thing they had ignorantly dismissed, he realized, studying the stone with nothing short of amazement.

Where Hermione was lacking in magical reserves, he was lacking ability to throw open his floodgates (so to speak). It was normal for their elements – fire was powerful but short lasting, where water was constant but confined. Apparently this stone helped him overcome that, and he realized that they had provided each other an unfair advantage to normal wizards. He tucked his gift into his shirt and vowed to keep it on him from now on so he could once again gain some control over his water when he cast.

"Does this work on water spells from my wand?" She smirked.

"Oh yes, but please don't try it now. This room can't hold a tsunami, thanks." He grinned, and quicker than she could blink he scooped her up and carried to the bed. Draco had told himself he was just here for a visit and to give her his present. As she laughed beneath him he realized that he had never had _any_ intention of leaving her room tonight.

* * *

><p>The knock came early. In fact, it was a knock and barge, as one very embarrassed Molly Weasley stood with her mouth fish flapping for air as she took in the scene before her. Both guilty occupants were awake immediately, scrambling for cover. By the time they woke up enough to realize what happened, Molly had long disappeared.<p>

"_Fuck_." It came in unison from both of them, and both of them scrambled to collect their clothes, hurriedly pulling them on.

"This should be fun to explain," she muttered, flopping down into the sitting chair nearby and pulling her socks and shoes. Draco was still pacing, gripping his hair as if he was trying to pull it out.

"Tom is going to kill me. _Then_ my parents are going to beat my corpse like a rug. _ Then_ Uncle Severus will cut up my remains for potion ingredients. Surely there are potions that call for a human liver? Notch of spine?" She rolled her eyes.

"No need to be so melodramatic. Besides, you won't even make it to my father if Harry and Ron catch wind of this. Should we just run, or approach the breakfast table and hope Molly hasn't called the cavalry?"

"Wait - wasn't the door locked?"

"Of course." At his incredulous look that asked: 'then how did this happen?' she shrugged apologetically. "Haven't you heard the saying: Slythers learn to steal, Huffles learn to help, Ravens learn to read, and Gryffins learn how to break and enter _and_ act self righteous about it?"

"Never heard it, but somehow I don't think that's _quite_ how it goes."

"Oh, well... it should. A locked door is like a come in sign. Eternally curious, the entire lot of us." She turned her back to him and pulled her shirt on, ready to go.

"Hermione," Draco whispered, whatever colour left draining from his face. "Did she see your mark?"

"I think she was too preoccupied by your arse." She was almost to the door at this point, but he grabbed her arm and spun her around. Hermione understood that he was in no mood for her joking attitude, even if it was how she was coping with the situation. She shook her head. "It was covered Draco, she didn't see. It was the first thing I checked when we were woken up." She watched him rub his face at least two more times as he pulled on the remainder of his clothes. Poor guy was going to have heart failure at this rate.

When they were both ready, they opted for escape. Unfortunately, it seemed that Molly had gone to work fast. Dumbledore met them at the steps, expression grave and calculating. Both of them eyed the front door hopelessly before they realized there would be no escape. They followed the Headmaster into the kitchen. Molly was fidgeting and looking worried. Arthur, who hadn't left for work yet and obviously didn't know what to tell her, just rubbed her back reassuringly. Remus sat quietly, looking as though he'd just been shaken and dragged out of bed without explanation. Severus, who had come to report and collect them, was leaning against the sink, a cup of black coffee warming his hands. Alert and calm, he watched them come in with some interest. They inched closer towards him, as if maybe he'd shield them from whatever punishment they were about to face. Halfway there, Draco grabbed her. Best not let the door get too far away. Severus smirked inwardly. The two of them looked like a pair of trapped animals.

Albus, sitting down in his usual spot, steepled his fingers and sighed deeply.

"I'm disappointed in you Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy." He looked beyond his years, and then he turned his attention to Severus. "I just find it a bit disconcerting, Severus. I thought you shared everything with me – if you've hiding this, what else don't I know about?" Hermione felt an icy grip of fear clench her heart, but Severus, used to his role as a double agent, gave nothing away.

"Every witch and wizard are entitled to their secrets, Headmaster." Severus' tone was bored. "Besides, unlike other teachers, I have never shown any inclination for gossip, but, if I'm going to have an opinion on the matter... I do not see the problem." Albus hesitated. Severus had a point – the man was very tight lipped about most matters to begin with, and showed little interest in anything other than the war. Molly, however, was not convinced.

"Severus! The Malfoy family has ties to Voldemort, you know that! How could you let this happen? You must know he's using her?" Her voice was shrill, and Draco visibly scowled. So they had long ago made up their minds about him. He _had_ been wasting his time here.

"I do recall having a mind of my own." Each pair of eyes swivelled to Hermione. She met each of them defiantly until Dumbledore, and couldn't believe that she felt the soft brush of his mind against hers. She adverted her gaze, cutting off the connection, much to his surprise. No one else seemed to have noticed the exchange.

"Hermione, dear. I realize this has been a hard year for you. I realize we may have not been very understanding. It's been busy, but lashing out for attention like this isn't-" Hermione clenched her fists and gritted her teeth, furious.

"Mrs Weasley, don't you _dare_!" Lupin still had said nothing, but unlike most of the room, who just swivelled their attention back and forth between whoever was speaking, she could see his gaze flicker between each of the occupants. He was trying to assess the situation entirely, and frowning, Hermione wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing. Regardless, Molly required her full attention, and so she turned it back to the older woman. "I'm a full grown adult, capable of my own decisions. You are _not_ my mother, and I do not report to you, or Professor Snape, or Professor Dumbledore. You have no proof of Draco's allegiance. How _dare_ you walk into a girl's _locked_ room first thing in the morning without being prompted to come in? How _dare_ you judge either of us?" Again, when she met Dumbledore's gaze she felt the wispy connection. She scowled. "And I swear to Merlin, Headmaster, if you even try to enter my mind again I-"

The force was staggering. It felt like a volley of icicles had just buried themselves into her protective walls, and even now she winced in pain. He searched her relentlessly for cracks, and desperately she tried to fortify her weakening shield. If she hadn't had her shields at full strength when he attacked, it would already be over. As he realized she fully intended to put up a fight, he began to add pressure to his shards, pushing them deeper and nearly causing her to scream in agony. Dumbledore's Legimens ... this couldn't possibly be the approach that he normally took. It was unnaturally cruel.

She was too far in to just tear her attention away, and it was all she could do to seal and layer her mind the best that she could. For every layer she threw up, she lost two more. She prayed that Professor Snape would realize what was happening in time.

And he did. Suddenly Albus was gone and time had meaning again. She realized that was being enveloped in a strong embrace. She could feel the cold sweat drenching her skin, her trembling arms as she gripped his frock coat. A throbbing headache nearly sent her to her knees, and she whispered shakily into his chest that her shields were down. They would not be up again until she recovered.

Hermione realized she was sobbing.

"I've got you," he whispered into her hair, kindly. His wand was firmly gripped and extended in his free hand, pointed at the Headmaster much to everyone's surprise. She could see Draco, who was rapidly going pale with shock and fury as he realized what had just happened. Severus turned to the younger man, offering him his charge to effectively cut him off from doing anything rash.

"What is she hiding, Severus?" The Headmaster roared. Everyone in the room flinched, including Snape. With a pang of pride for his young student, Severus realized that he had grabbed her in time. They had not been compromised. How long had Dumbledore assaulted her shields before he realized what was going on? Fifteen, thirty seconds? Incredible. She was a natural.

Albus' fury was halved when she suddenly she retched, pushing Draco away. In effort to stop herself, she clamped her mouth shut and incidentally, diverted all the pressure to her nose. Blood splattered over her hand in excess.

She tried to stem the flow with her other hand, but Draco dropped down beside her, pulling out his handkerchief and offering it to her. She thankfully took it and held it against her face and sank against him. The blood sent the entire room into a silent panic – what had Albus done? They could see her clearly now, also – she was a ghastly white. Sweat stuck to her forehead and her eyes looked tired, puffy and faraway. The girl occasionally twitched, but relaxed at Draco's calming touch.

Even Albus hesitated, understanding that he had, in fact, harmed the girl. Severus, emboldened by the room's silent horror and his own righteous anger, jumped this opportunity and snapped:

"Maybe she didn't want her mentor to see how thoroughly Draco has fucked her for the last month!" Hermione felt her cheeks redden. _Oh God, there was no way the entire house wasn't in on this now_. And Snape knew, she realized_. _He had known all along. But, even though it was a valid argument... did he have to be so damn blunt?

She forced herself to focus on the occupants of the room, and noted that the entire table looked even more upset. Dumbledore looked beside himself. Snape relaxed despite the scathing and confused glares he was receiving.

"You're mad because she successfully blocked you, after you made an unauthorized attempt to rummage through her mind- something you have no ownership of. Am I mistaken?" When nothing was said, he turned her and steered the two of them towards to the exit. "Draco is my godson, and Miss Granger is my student. You think that through this apprenticeship I have not been training them to guard their minds? Something I have obvious talents in? Students will be students, and otherwise, I have no issues with the two seeing each other, as long as they both agree. But you, Albus, you just went too far. Forced Legimens is a very serious legal _and_ moral offence. Yet... you helped yourself. Amazing, that the law only applies when it's good for you."

Severus, though usually snarky and opinionated, had never scolded Albus so fiercely in the past, and everyone knew it. There was an awkward silence until Harry and Ron came in the far entrance.

"Merlin's saggy balls! What is this, then?" Not even Ron's mother protested at his outburst, and if possible, it made the awkward silence more palpable.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter. We were just discussing the relationship between your fellow students. No need for alarm. Right, Headmaster?" Ron went red in the face, and Harry turned more green than anything. They both noted the proximity between the two. Severus coughed and continued, knowing that his momentum was fading.

"I believe this gathering no longer holds any purpose. If you would excuse us, I will be returning Draco to his family." He looked over and saw the two of them tighten their embrace - neither wanted to leave her here. Especially not with Dumbledore. Severus was not particularly keen on leaving her either, but for show, he rolled his eyes and sighed. "I believe I will be taking Miss Granger also, seeing as the two of them seem unable to part. Since they are planning to attend the Yuletide Ball at Malfoy Manor anyway, I will take them there and see that they arrive in time for start of term. As for myself, I will report to you next week."

"Severus..." His voice was quiet, as though he truly felt bad for his mentor.

"Albus, legally, the girl never needed your permission to go. As an adult, she's no longer under your care. I'm sorry, but after today... I doubt that she'll wish to be." Albus nodded weakly, obviously unable to argue. It would be better if the girl left for now anyway, he thought. Those who had witnessed this whole mess would be more likely to accept his explanation if the evidence was not there to remind them.

With a final grave look, Severus ushered the two from the room, from the house, and far away from prying minds.

* * *

><p>They were halfway up the path to Malfoy manner when he spoke again. Hermione looked much better for the most part, and walked without assistance, so he didn't feel bad when he started to reprimand them.<p>

"Do you have any idea how close you two came to ruining everything?" Neither replied, nor did they dare look up at him. When they felt his prying eyes demanding some sort of recognition, they both gave a meek nod. The trio continued in silence through the Grand Foyer until they met Lucius and Narcissa, who had come to greet them.

"Severus. We did not expect to see you so soon. Draco, Hermione." The tension was thick, and the horror that Severus was about to tell his parents all the gory details, was mounting between the two young adults.

"There were some issues, but nothing to be concerned over. It seems that Draco and Hermione," he cast them a suffering, hopeless look, "have taken a liking to each other, which as you both can imagine, is not a well received idea in a den full of Gryffindors." The way Lucius smirked and his mother quirked her eyebrow, it was obvious they were not oblivious of teenage doings.

Both of them thought the same thing: Was this it? Reassured that it was, they both exhaled a sigh of relief. They could live with this.

"So clearing Draco's reputation was a no go, then?"

"It was very ill received." Draco muttered an apology. Forgetting the somber atmosphere, she backhanded his arm, much to the surprise of everyone present.

"Draco Malfoy, you have absolutely _nothing_ to apologize for. I realize how hard it is to be civil in that household, and I think you did very well. Unfortunately, it's inconceivable to be stereotypical, unless of course, you're an Order member. Bunch of hypocritical prats, I say. At least we tried." She nodded firmly after this, daring anyone to argue. Smiles tore through the group, and not even Severus was immune. Draco looked as though all his worries had melted away in a second. No one missed the look that two youngest members shared. Offering to escort her to her guestroom, the two of them disappeared around the corner and Severus turned to say something, but stopped.

Lucius was pretending to watch the retreating form of his son, whereas Narcissa was looking at her husband gleefully. She held out a hand, wriggling her fingers. Severus quirked his own eyebrow as he saw his long time friend scowl, reach in his pocket, and shove a few galleons towards his wife. She tucked them into her sleeve and smiled slyly.

"Oh _please_. Don't pretend you're not glad you lost."

* * *

><p>Hermione had survived the initiation to become a Death Eater. She had tiptoed around Order HQ knowing one wrong step would land her in Azkaban. She had tea with the feared Lord Voldemort, along with what she had once thought to be the two biggest blood purists in the Wizarding World. Oh, and Snape had been there too, so that should count for something. She plotted the demise of everything she once lived for.<p>

Yet, going over these things in her mind, didn't calm her nerves. Preparing herself for a simple Yuletide ball had her sweating buckets. Draco would be arriving to her guest room to collect her in an hour, yet she was only half dressed and tendrils of hair that should not be loose were, well, running rampant. She hadn't even started her make-up.

A light knock at her door announced someone's arrival, and assuming it would be rude to ignore whoever was outside she tried to hop over on one foot while wrestling with the straps of a high heel. Before she could get there, the door opened and shut, leaving Narcissa Malfoy leaning against the frame. The woman suddenly looked as if she had just found a wild animal.

"Oh dear, Draco said you were nervous but I had hoped he was kidding. Come, we'll get you fixed up in no time." The blush crept across her cheeks, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up under the vanity and die from embarassment.

But, true to her word, and without an air of superiority, Narcissa began to rip out the failed style that Hermione been attempting. With expert fingers the older woman twirled and twisted the normally untameable strands. Hermione watched with wide eyes as her hair succumbed. The woman used her wand almost like a curling iron, and the remaining sprigs of frizz were transformed into loose, elegant curls.

Next, she spun Hermione around and began to apply her make-up. When finished, she was spun around again to meet a stranger in the mirror – someone who resembled the beauty she had once managed before at what seemed a much younger age. However, this time, she looked like a woman. Raising her chin defiantly, she decided that she _finally_ looked as if she belonged in the strange, new world that she was about to enter.

"I always regretted not having a daughter," Narcissa murmured, bringing her face down beside Hermione's and examining her work. A smile tugged at her lips. "Better late than never, I suppose. I thought Draco was exaggerating, but would you care to explain why you were practically a wreck when I got here?"

Her fumbled explanation seemed childish when said out loud, and she felt her ears redden at the look Draco's mother gave her.

"Sometimes we forget that you're still a child," Hermione's sharp look made Narcissa laugh. "It is not an insult, sweetling. You and Draco have been doing a lot of work for the cause, work that would not be normally given to ones so young. But my dear, you've already passed the initiation, your heritage no longer matters to the people who would scorn you for it. And no one would dare cross a Malfoy, especially at their own ball. _Very_ bad manners." There was a knock at the door, and Hermione realized that this time it was probably Draco coming to pick her up. Before Narcissa went to answer, she squeezed the girl's shoulder and smirked. "And don't forget, if you get yourself in any sort of trouble, that strapping young lad on your arm can help you."

* * *

><p>Draco had to wait outside the rooms for another ten minutes, and he tapped his foot impatiently until his mother came out of the room and offered an explanation.<p>

"We had to transfigure her different shoes." She smiled and extended her palms in mock apology, as if it accounted for this entire time. Women were good at dressing up, and they were good with time, but it seemed that mixing the two was a no go for them. His mother was notorious for making people wait for her, and though Hermione was in good hands, he didn't want her to pick up his mother's bad habits. When she was out of sight, he knocked again. Wasn't she ready yet?

Finally the door swung open and they stared at each other for a few, awkward moments. He was fully prepared to scold her on taking so long, but he decided that if this was the outcome then a few extra minutes didn't hurt. Besides, she was ready now, right? Any upset that he had been harbouring evaporated.

Years ago, when he had hated her, he had grudgingly admitted to himself that she had looked nice for the Hogwarts Yuletide Ball. Maybe it was because they were older, or maybe it was because these days he thought that she was always beautiful, but whatever it was, he couldn't imagine another girl even holding a candle to the woman in front of him.

She was wearing a simple and sleeveless V-neck that had, but needed, no extra adornment. It hugged her waist and flowed loosely to the floor, and on movement,it shimmered and glittered in several shades of azure. He carefully approached her, and even though it wasn't polite, lifted the hem of her dress a little to have a look at these shoes that had taken ages to transfigure. They were just simple silver and white strappy sandals, but were still nice. Content that he would not find running shoes on her at an inopportune moment during the evening, he straightened up and offered her his arm with a nod.

Girls really had to go all out for these things, he thought. The guys were lucky - dress robes were pretty straight forward. In regular society formal wear was a bit more lenient and you could wear different colours and styles. At events like the Malfoy ball, however, the male dress code was fairly strict unless you were foreign. You were required to wear black shoes, socks, pants, vest and dress coat. Your shirt was to be white with a white tie or bow, and in the end, the only thing you had the option to customize was your jewelry and cufflinks. Anything more or less was frowned on. If you kept to tradition, you couldn't go wrong. Not as a male, anyway.

Realizing that they hadn't spoken, and that she still looked a bit nervous, he offered:

"Those who are aware of your allegiances, but can still show their faces in public, have been ordered to act accordingly. The last thing we need is every pureblood that belongs to Tom to be unusually polite, leaving a very suspicious Minister of Magic on your tail." _Though suspicious is his nature_, Draco thought. _He'll be hunting you down sometime tonight regardless_. No need to prematurely worry her though.

She nodded, and wondered what 'act accordingly' meant exactly. Would they still tilt their heads in respect, due to the fact she was Draco's date for the night? Or would they sneer and pretend she was somewhere she shouldn't be? She was convinced they wouldn't slip up – after all, those who couldn't pretend, didn't, and therefor they had to stay in hiding. They would never be invited to such a public event like this.

He brought her in through one of the balcony seats first to take in the sight. She was glad he did so, because her breath hitched as she approached the rail. Of course, she had seen the ballroom prior to this, from this spot even, but it had been in the middle of the day. It also hadn't been decorated to hold such an event.

She remembered the walls as a mixture of gold and cream with red accents, but now they had been recoloured and matched the colours expected of a winter festival. Black beams twisted and raced towards the domed ceiling, joining and passing others in a mix of artistic vision and supportive architecture. The domed ceiling, some of it hidden by the beams, was web of blue and silver. The grand chandelier, clear and delicate, was the center piece for the magically suspended icicles of varying lengths and widths. Flurries of snowflakes raced around, thicker and more fierce the higher they went. As some fell and drifted towards the floor, they disappeared, giving the effect of a light snow that didn't quite make it to the ground. It gave all the visual appeal without making the guests below cold or wet.

There were several balconies on the second floor other than the one they were in, but they were unoccupied. Leaning a little over the railing, not caring much for formality, she reached back and gripped Draco's hand and pulled him beside her. Of course he had seen this at least a dozen times before, but he said nothing and just watched the proceedings below with mild interest. He was more entertained by the expressions that flowed over his date's face – he knew the most formal Wizarding event she had ever been to was the Yuletide Ball at Hogwarts. Although not bad for a school, it was like a child's birthday party in comparison. He wouldn't be surprised if she expressed this manner of excitement for the rest of her life, as it seemed something she may not tire of for years to come. You really had to grow up with it to have the drab view that Draco had now. People introduced to it later in life rarely became disenchanted – unless, of course, they had to attend them frequently. But no one quite held a ball like a Malfoy, and it took such effort and expense they only bothered once a year.

There would be no wizard rock, she realized, seeing a full orchestra tucked away in an inconspicuous corner. They were settled in for the night, and their music, amplified to reach all parts of the room equally, waved over the crowd in a series of waltzes and ballads and... well, Hermione had never been much a follower, so all she knew was the music seemed classical. Several couples twirled and moved in perfect unison, giving the room a lively but rich atmosphere.

There were no children she noted, and no one with abnormally gaudy outfits. Even the servants were well dressed, donned in the same formal garb that most of the males wore, but without the cloak. Without it, they were easily distinguishable. They expertly wove through the crowd without spilling any of various drinks and hors d'oeuvres that they carried. She recognized the formal wear of Durmstrang... or, well, Norway, she corrected herself. Those who wore the uniform were much too old to be students, and with alarm she swallowed nervously, and tried to pick out familiar faces. There were a couple Ministry officials she could recognize, but only knew by last name. The Malfoys, of course. She scanned, hoping to see some students who had maybe come with their parents?

There were several doors stationed through main floor. She knew the one near the bar would lead to the main foyer. Across from it (which was quite a ways) would lead to the gardens, which she suspected were perfectly trimmed and decorated for those who wanted a breath of fresh air or privacy. The main doors, decorated with thick, elegant drapes of black satin had been propped open to allow people to filter in. The doorway must have been spelled to keep out the cold, because even the people who loitered nearby didn't look chilly.

Those doors must have also been specially made – she never noticed before, but the entrance was big enough for three Hagrids to walk in side by side without ducking.

"Draco, is there anyone I know?" He pointed towards the floor and shrugged.

"I suspect that there will be some Slytherins beneath us, but otherwise, it's unlikely."

With that, he led her gently from her view on the balcony. It was time to show off his prize, though he'd never say that out loud. The girl would skin him alive, and he smirked in her direction, receiving a quizzical look in reply. Supposed heritage or not, no one could dispute that he hadn't performed some sort of small miracle by snagging her.

They took the foyer stairs down and entered that way, and suddenly Hermione found herself in the middle of the mayhem. She was no longer looking down at the scene, she was part of it, and the hustle of the crowd around her made her both nervous and intrigued. Draco thought about making rounds to greet the guests, but realizing that Hermione would have to speak also, he decided to ease her nerves by leading her to the dance floor first.

The experience that came with being raised as a pureblood, the dancing lessons that he was forced to undertake since he was old enough to walk, proved to be worthwhile now. He led her in a smooth glide around the other couples. She answered to his light touches of direction without hesitation, and curious at her ability, he tested her with a spin. It was flawless. He knew before they started that she could dance well enough to perform a waltz, but he hadn't expected her to be this good.

"Surely you did not learn to dance this well at Hogwarts?" She shook her head, and for a minute her expression faltered.

"My Dad taught me. Ever since I was little, up until..." she swallowed hard, realizing the words were lodged in her throat. The sentence would remain unfinished, but Draco nodded in understanding and did not prompt her further. He did not know the finer details, but was aware of the situation. Not wanting to upset her further, he genuinely offered:

"Well, I'm convinced. If there is one thing that muggles can do better than wizards, it's teach their daughters how to dance. I'm sure he was very proud of you." She smiled at him then, thankfully, and he kissed her forehead. A dance teacher could teach someone for a lifetime, but if they did not have fond memories or the passion for it, they would never be more than mediocre. Hermione was far from mediocre.

She let him guide her wherever he wanted to go, and by the next song she was beaming again. There was a big difference between dancing with your Dad and dancing with your date. Her only other chance to appreciate the latter had been with Krum, and there hadn't been much to appreciate. Krum, who was particularly duck footed and lacked any sort of grace off a broom, had held her back.

She was too preoccupied to notice, but Draco knew that they were being watched. He had been trained to dance while paying mind to what was happening around him, and saw his mother shoot them small, proud smiles. His father and Severus were whispering about something, but occasionally the two of them would glance in his direction. He suspected they were talking about something else, but were keeping tabs nonetheless.

Pansy and the Greengrass sisters looked a little on the disappointed side, but overall didn't seem surprised. Blaise smirked and whispered to the small group of Slytherins that had gathered. He also noticed a few people he didn't know studying them, and the Minister of Magic was watching with that calculating look he often wore. Why wasn't anyone keeping him occupied?

After a solid hour, Draco led his partner towards his mother. At her confused look, he smiled apologetically.

"I must dance with her at least once, and then make rounds. If you'd like to come with me, that's fine, but you look like you're having fun and would do well without the scathing remarks of the Ministry." She nodded in agreement. On their way off the dance floor, he grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and offered it to her, along with his arm.

She released him when they arrived to his mother, and he extended the now free limb to her and led her away. Narcissa nodded her thanks to the young girl, and suddenly with nothing to do, she looked awkwardly around. She knew that he did not expect her to go and make small talk, but Blaise was practically a friend and so she made her way towards the group of students that were watching her with open interest.

"All done dancing?" Blaise grinned, and she felt like she wasn't getting something but shrugged anyway.

"For now. I don't really want to dance with anyone else, so I'll wait until he's done."

"Of course you will." At her curious look, Blaise offered nothing more but she heard someone mutter:

"Such a commoner." She turned and glared at the source, who smirked in reply. Pansy, while holding up her hands in defence, rolled her eyes. "Draco obviously didn't mention the general formality of these things, did he?" She shrugged, a little embarrassed. What was there to know, really?

All of the Slytherins had suspected she didn't know, but Blaise, who didn't want his vague comments being the last thing she heard from him, jumped to explain.

"If you are escorting someone to a dance, it is customary to dance with her once and then switch partners. To dance several songs in a row with the same person implies that Draco is not simply escorting you, but that you two, are in fact, a couple. For anyone else within appropriate courting age to ask you for a dance, well, it would be quite inappropriate now." She stared at him blankly. Pansy and her group, normally snooty towards the bookworm, watched her carefully to see how she would react.

"Oh, and he knew this all along, did he?" She craned her head around so she could look at him clearly. Both him and his mother were watching her, identical sly smiles on their faces. Hermione considered being put out, but in the end she just snorted in an unladylike way and shrugged. "Guess the ruse is up - not that it was a very good one to begin with."

She felt like she had passed some sort of Slytherin initiation, but she didn't know how. Her and the Slytherins openly chatted about various things, complained about others, and laughed at each other's jokes. Not even Pansy cared that a Gryffindor was hanging out with them anymore, and soon whatever reservations Hermione had left, melted away. Draco came up on the group suddenly, grabbing her arm and trying to lead her away.

"Draco, what are you-?" But it was too late. A silence fell over them, and she turned to look up at Rufus Scrimgeour. Maybe it was partly due to the fact that he was literally towering over her, but when he spoke, it sent a chill down her back.

Rufus had been meaning to approach her from the moment he saw her enter with Draco. Her presence was quite a surprise, seeing as there were no other known Order members here. When Draco had finally released her, he had tried to approach her then, but had been caught up in conversation with several officials. Then, each of the Malfoys approached him in turn. If he didn't know better, it almost seemed that they were trying to keep her away from him. But now, he had her and she couldn't escape again.

"Ah, Miss Granger, how interesting to see you here." Draco discreetly motioned the other Slytherins to stay put and quiet. Both Rufus and Hermione noticed the group seemed to move closer together.

_Good grief_, she thought. It wasn't like Slytherin to show hesitation – especially on their own turf. Suddenly, reminded of that fact, she smiled broadly at Rufus and squeezed Draco's hand to let him know she had this. Draco eyed her warily – unsure if he should be worried or not. At least she didn't appear to be armed with anything other than her wits. _That_ was a plus.

"Minister," she finally answered, inclining her head in respect. "How are you enjoying the ball?" It was friendly, but also formal, and politely reminded the man that he could easily insult his hosts. Looking around, she noticed that only a few people were watching the exchange. All the Slytherins watched the exchange with bored expressions.

"It's quite splendid, the Malfoys have once again outdone themselves." He couldn't ask her outright what she was doing here, so he tried again to pry the information from her willingly. "It's nice to see some house unity. It's so rare to see a Slytherin and Gryffindor getting along." He nodded, content that he had conveyed his real question and done so acceptably.

"Ah, yes. Usually there are no opportunities for us to work together, but this year Draco and I have a joint Potions project. It forced us to reconcile our differences." She waved her hand as if to dismiss the subject – no big deal, right? But the Minister wasn't content yet, and so he continued:

"Oh, do all the Slytherins have Potions Projects then?" She laughed at the absurd question and he felt his ears turn a little red. Okay, so in hindsight it may have been a silly question! But the chit wasn't answering him properly, what was he supposed to do?

"Oh Minister, of course not," then, as an added thought she gestured to half the group. "Some of us play rugby at school together." Draco withheld a snort. It may have been true, but the likelihood of it was almost impossible. Rufus stared at them all in disbelief. He could not see any malice in her smile, but she was _obviously_ insulting him! Rugby? Wasn't that some sort of _muggle_ sport?

There was nothing he could do about it, he realized, seething. By the look that the youngest Malfoy was giving him, he was already treading on thin ice.

"_Interesting_," he repeated, and before he could think of something else to say, a hand clapped him on the shoulder and Lucius appeared, smiling thinly.

"Minister," he greeted. "I see you've met Hermione Granger. My son and her have become very close, as you can see. We've invited her to stay for the rest of the break, and she's graciously accepted, haven't you, Hermione?" She nodded, and Minister sighed in understanding.

"_I see_." And he did. Insulting an extended guest of the Malfoys was just as bad as insulting them, and Lucius had just given him a warning: Cross her, cross us. But_ why_? _Why protect a Gryffindor?_ He allowed his host to escort him towards the bar for another drink.

He ran off what he knew about Hermione Granger in his head. Year seven. Friend of Harry Potter and the Weasley boy. Top of her class, and Head Girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He heard that she had submitted some applications for apprenticeships, but nothing more. He would have to pull her file and see what else they knew about her. He didn't like the Order much, and he especially wasn't keen on Albus Dumbledore. However, he had taken it on himself to look out for young Mr Potter, and as far as he was concerned, this involved him.

Unapproachable sort, they were. _Dangerous_. And with that thought, he turned to look back casually. They were all watching him with identical expressions, even Granger. He didn't know much about house rivalry these days, but he was pretty sure Gryffindors weren't supposed to make those kind of faces. The girl may as well be a Slytherin.

And Slytherins, he decided firmly, could _not_ be trusted.

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you all my readers again, I'm glad I'm back on schedule with the releases.Next chapter is well on it's way... we'll be seeing some more of the winter break (which everyone who is wanting more Papa Tom/Hermione interaction will be pleased about). They will also be returning to Hogwarts, and Hermione will begin her long, _boring_ (oops, did I say boring? Well maybe there'll be a bit of excitement here and there) task of restoring the castle. As always, reviews are _greatly_ appreciated and I thank everyone who does (I've noticed a couple of regulars, which make me quite cheerful.) I simply cannot believe that I thought this story was originally going to be about 30K words. We just hit the halfway point last week or so. _Good grief._


	8. What I Didn't Want to Tell You

**CHAPTER 8**  
>What I Didn't Want to Tell You<p>

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><p>They still had over a week before they had to go back to school, and having several days to relax in an environment that didn't require them to tiptoe and offer half truths was wonderful. Hermione frowned at this - she hadn't been doing much of a bang up job of it, not lately. Too often they had to hope that everyone would see what they wanted to see. Too often they banked on Dumbledore's arrogance and inability to come clean. He may be able to talk his way out of the occasional blunder (everyone made mistakes, right?), but how do you explain a deception that had almost run for two decades? It would be unforgivable.<p>

Her father still held on fiercely to the idea that she was stunted. She was pretty sure that he was trying to pick a fight with her by making the odd remark here or there, and disbelievingly she would just shake her head and let it slide. However, the more she ignored him, the sharper his comments became until she finally snapped. Upset and unthinking, a burst of wandless fire danced across the dining hall towards him. It ricocheted off the table harmlessly – thankfully repelled by anti-burning wards. By the time it reached him, it was a trivial matter. She wasn't surprised when he extinguished it with a wave of his hand. It was when he purposely tried to drown her in the process. Water wasn't his natural element, and he made sure she knew that with an irritated, haughty type of look. Wet and furious, she shot to her feet and snarled.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm just _normal_? Yeah, fine, obviously I was a _little_ restricted as a kid, but I haven't had like," and she waved her hand dismissively, "_five hundred years_ to work on my skill. I haven't had time to go and delve in Dark Arts that will enhance my performance. I haven't even graduated yet!"

"I am not quite five hundred." She gritted her teeth.

"_Whatever_."

"And you are _my_ daughter, which means you don't _get_ to be normal. Until you prove to me that you are a least a trifle better, I will continue to make snide remarks and be generally appalled at your skill."

_Better than who_? Her peers was the obvious answer, but she already was better, and her father knew that, didn't he? Tom had been difficult to see eye to eye with in the past - that much was true. But ever since they had returned from Grimmauld, he had been unusually harsh with her. They had not discussed what happened, but she was convinced that he had made up his mind – changed it, even. For an eighteen year old she _was_ exceptional. Just not exceptional enough. As Tom stared at her with that aggravated, unbridled look of disgust (a look he had mastered at a young age) she felt truly inadequate. Worthless.

Anger was a wonderful thing, she decided. It could mask any insecurity or doubt that she felt about herself. It made her feel that she was... _right_. Yes. She was right and he was wrong, and that insufferable father of hers could do nothing to convince her otherwise. Not while she was seeing red, he couldn't.

Unfortunately, if not reigned in, anger could also be irrational. As he kept looking at her unfavourably, her anger towards him grew. What did he want from her? What hadn't she offered him? _Damn him,_ she thought savagely. _I'll _make_ him see I'm right!_

She grabbed her wand and let her magic run rampant. A firestorm tore through the table, and her father pushed away just in time to miss being scorched. Because she was using her wand, and because her magic was backed by pure rage, the wards to protect the room were obliterated with little effort. His chair quickly suffered the unfortunate fate of kindling. The table cracked and started to collapse under the pressure. At the slightest provocation, the wallpaper blackened and peeled.

Intent to prove _his_ point by using _just_ water, Tom tried again. This time it wasn't enough, and the result was steam pouring through the room, making it humid, but not putting out the fire. She shot several more columns of flame at him, but he easily stepped out the way. A half melted bowl flew past her head, and in response, she started exploding anything and everything near him.

Even though she was trying to ignore rationalization, she knew she was on the losing end. Her fire was devastating, she knew, but uncontrollable and slow. The first pang of self doubt crept into her – maybe Tom had a point. Her magic wasn't as impressive to someone who was quick on their feet. Angrily, she mentally shook her head. She would just have to take a different approach. Hermione would have to catch him off guard, and so she ran what she knew through her head.

If she could gamble all of her magic into one, devastating shot, she might be able to do something worthwhile. It would need to be concentrated... oh, and quicker than he could move. If she could at least force him to draw his wand...

_No_. That kind of intent would get her nowhere. If you aim small, you're apt to get small –_ if_ you're lucky. She would have to cast with intent to kill. Fast enough that he can't dodge. Powerful enough that he can't block. There was only one spell she could think of to do it, but she only knew the theory. It definitely wouldn't last long, and her aim would have to be perfect. It was also dangerous, and if done incorrectly could kill her. It wasn't something you could_ ever_ botch up.

But... she had always been good at getting things right on the first try. The key was to empty herself of all irrelevance or thoughts of failure. Confidence. Control. Intent.

She gave a circular flick with her main wand, and the untamed fire began to race back towards her. _Do not hesitate_, she thought. _You are not afraid of fire, so don't start now_. She took a deep, inhaling breath, and the flames disappeared down her throat with a roar. Her smaller wand, pressed snugly against her throat, helped to protect her insides from the inferno. There was an eerie silence as the room was left empty, and for a moment she stood there with her chest full, eyes watering, and cheeks puffed out dramatically. The table gave another crack as a leg gave out, which seemed to start the clock again, and two things happened at once. Tom pulled his wand out with impressive speed, and Hermione spat the fire in a single, concentrated torch across the room.

The Malfoy family, on feeling the entire foundation of their manor shaking, hurried towards the source. By the time they got there, Hermione's fire was long gone, and the two Riddles faced each other quietly. Neither one moved as the chandelier teetered and came crashing down.

Tom was still standing, but his robes were smouldering and he was covered in varying degrees of dirt and soot. Pieces of the ceiling and general decor lay around him. The wall behind him was completely incinerated. Hermione's nostrils were flared in indignation, tendrils of smoke lacing out of them. With the remaining look of fury about her, she was a sight to be feared. Right until she started to hack and wheeze and pound her chest as though she had swallowed something awful.

Tom just stared at his daughter.

And then he laughed. And clapped.

"_Fantastic_! You very nearly disarmed me! And you didn't die in the process!" There was no sarcastic humour in his voice, and he genuinely looked gleeful. Turning to the group, he beckoned Lucius over, and warily the man tiptoed through the debris to his master. "Look Lucius!" He pulled up what was left of his robes to show a nasty burn, brown and leathery, that was cast along his leg. "She burnt me! _Me_, Lucius!" Lucius frowned. Most parents were happy when their kids were accepted into a prestigious academy, or made the school's Quidditch team. You know, normal, and more importantly, _safe_ achievements.

For his master, it seemed that he was happiest when his daughter came close to killing him. Peculiar, but somehow not surprising.

"My Lord," he winced, smacking his lips in an effort to moisten his mouth. Tom started to examine the rest of his body that he had only managed to partly shield. "You _need_ medical assistance." With a happy sigh, Tom for once agreed, and allowed his friend and servant to support him. Together they limped out, and their conversation could be heard by the remaining occupants as they continued down the hall.

"Bill me for the damages, Lucius, and let us have a good feast once I am recovered! "

"My Lord, the damages are of no concern, I only implore you to not destroy my house further. And I hate to be the bringer of bad news, but we cannot have a good feast, as you so put it, until the hall is repaired. We have nowhere to eat..." Their voices faded after that, and Hermione dropped to her knees, breathing heavily.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Narcissa stayed in the doorway, surveying the situation, but Draco rushed through the wreckage and knelt next to her. Her eyes were unfocused, and she held up her wrist. One of the six charms had faded. So she _had_ dipped into the reserve, after all. The sheer amount of mana he must have drained for not one, but six of these...

"It seems more than it is," he explained quietly, knowing well where her mind was wandering. "Remember, you depleted your own and _then_ one of those. Imagine a week's worth of magic in a matter of minutes – it would seem like a lot to anyone." Then, shaking her gently, he repeated his question. "But, more importantly, _are you hurt_?" She shook her head no, even though she was still examining herself for injury while doing so. Then, slumping against Draco, she sighed.

"Asshole," came the grumble, but he didn't take offence. If the state of his dining room was anything to go by, he had a good idea at who that comment was for.

* * *

><p>After that, things got a lot more interesting. Tom nearly fawned over her, and took her and Draco out for daily lessons. It was interesting that she deserved lessons <em>after<em> proving herself, but not before.

Every morning he would pit the two against each other. If he wasn't busy taking over the world, he would have been a great duelling professor. He had a plethora of uncommon spell knowledge, and an uncanny knack to know exactly when they needed to stop. Neither one of the teenagers ever needed more than a night's rest to be recovered, but by lunch they both had very little left to draw from for the remainder of the day. Forcing the body to drain all of its magic consistently would tell their core that they needed a bigger reserve.

It sounded a bit simple to Hermione, and one day during lunch she posed the question: why doesn't everyone do it then? It was Severus who answered, even if it was with another question.

"Why isn't everyone a bodybuilder?" The table had looked to her expectantly, and she shrugged.

"Well, because it's hard work, I guess. And not everyone wants to, or can, I guess." Her Potions teacher nodded in reply to that, but didn't deem it necessary to say anything further. Hermone still felt a little confused. It really _couldn't_ just be that simple, could it?

During the afternoon, Draco would wander off to the library to study, whereas Hermione was still required to dedicate her unwavering attention to Tom. Strangely, she didn't mind as much as she thought she would. During their father-daughter only sessions, she spoke at length with him about her mission to free the castle. She showed him the blueprint book, and they studied it together.

Her father was not a stupid man – a fact she already knew but was reinforced as the break continued. Even if the answer wasn't clear to him, sometimes all it took was a suggestion or comment on his part, and they eagerly broke down the book's remaining mysteries so she would fully understand every intricacy of her task. It was nice to finally have a second set of eyes on it.

Though the deal was to restore her, there were parts that she could run by the castle for improvement. For example, it was in her power to activate individual suits of armour, but if the Headmaster woke them to do his bidding, the connection was cut off. 'Protect the castle' was usually the only command given, but if the castle _could_ control the suits and have them work together, their usefulness would increase tenfold. It was a solid idea, and she couldn't see the castle being upset over it. Especially since it was, inevitably, up to her on whether or not she wanted such a freedom implemented. Together they fashioned the correct rune for the job, and soon after, several pages for improvements began to crop up through the book.

Hesitantly, she also proposed some issues that she was having. Sometimes he did not seem impressed, but tried to take her criticism seriously. For instance, when the war was over, she wanted muggleborns _tested_ for magical capacity. She thought they at least deserved the right to earn their way into their world. He had grudgingly agreed to consider it, though it was obvious he would lose no sleep over the matter. At least she had convinced him not to execute them needlessly.

On the last day of break, they didn't practise. Draco seemed to be relieved, as he was exhausted, but it left Hermione too much time to think. Draco started packing up his belongings before bed, and even though it was getting late, she didn't want to do her own yet. She was restless from a full day of inactivity.

Crossing paths, Tom had gestured to her, and together they walked through the dark grounds to their usual duelling spot. The poor place looked like nothing could restore it – the ground was scorched for a good hundred yards in every direction, occasionally with muddy puddle here or there. She sincerely hoped that Lucius would be able to find someone to repair it. Damage done by magic was always harder to remove than natural disaster. They stood there for a long time, staring at everything and nothing.

"I have one more lesson I want to give you before you go back to school. In theory, Draco could probably teach you it eventually, if you didn't get it on your own. However, if we do it this way, it should cut out several months of training and you can use that time elsewhere." She nodded, eager to learn something new as always.

He brandished his wand, and she felt a lump of excitement knot in her chest. It was fascinating to watch him cast, and the man never gave mediocre examples.

"I'm going to show you _my_ flames. And then I'm going to tell you how to make yours even better." He started off slowly, rotating his wand. The trail was light, controlled. It moved in a wide, perfect circle around them, no higher than a quarter meter. "As you know, the more emotional we are, the stronger our magic is. But the secret isn't to lose our temper and let magic fight for us."

She was silent as she watched his fire, unchanging, continue to circle them. He motioned to her.

"Cast. Mimic my movements." Stepping up beside him, she concentrated on doing what he asked of her. He had been trying to teach her control all week, and she felt excited when her fire momentarily looked like his. Then, she felt ashamed. Her flames were licking too high, her circle was a little oval, and the more she thought about it, the worse it became. She thought about stopping but he shook his head, a sign to continue.

"You're still letting your emotions dictate your magic. _Stop_." She knew he didn't mean casting, and she looked at him, not understanding. "Remember that day when you spat fire at me?"

"Of course."

"What were you thinking? Were you casting with your feelings? Or were you calm with a goal in mind?" She frowned, then blushed a little. Her now egg shape of rotating fire wobbled uncertainly. "Go on, say it."

"I was calm, but... I wanted to kill you," she whispered, terrified. "So I guess I was still casting with my feelings?" He grinned, and not for the first time Hermione thought her father might be a little on the odd side.

"Precisely! You wanted to kill me, which, as you just implied, was based off your feelings. Though I don't particularly agree with that sentiment..." His fire grew larger, angrier, but still Hermione thought it looked awfully controlled. "You had a _single_ goal in your mind. Anger, despair, even excitement – they create conflict and bounce all over the place. Our constant surges of emotion is what _makes_ our element fire, but remember. It belongs to us, not the other way around. Bottle your feelings, and release them at the pace that you choose. Let them flow out in controlled bursts, and cap the excess you don't need. I've taught you your limits and showed you how to expand them. Learn control and nothing can stand in your way. Control," he repeated soothingly. "Now use it."

She felt herself almost slip into a trance. Control. She thought about everything that had ever upset her, from Ron, to the Order, and even her father that day he had provoked her. She gathered those emotions to her, but breathed deeply and forced herself to stay calm. Her fire was still bouncing all over the place.

She just couldn't do it. Not this time.

She closed her eyes in frustration. _Seeing_ herself fail wasn't helping. She concentrated on what he said again, and imagined all of her pent up emotions being shoved into an imaginary bottle. She shoved a cork into it, and watched from the outside as they grew and festered, trapped. There were times that she thought the bottle would burst.

She didn't know how long she did this for, but finally Hermione decided she was ready. She understood what her father was trying to help her achieve. At this, she opened her eyes and found herself being watched closely. She had continued to mimic his movements, and slowly, but surely, she mentally allowed just the right amount of emotion to escape. Her fire tapered in, moved the way she wanted it to. Finally.

His flame grew again, and she copied him. Again. Higher. Wider. Soon their circle was to the edge of the ruined clearing and stood just a touch taller than six foot. It crackled and sparked, lighting up the field, but did not get out of control. It was beautiful. It was terrifying.

Her father didn't have to say anything – You're almost there. Release the rest.

The fires exploded, creating not one, but two, gigantic cyclones of flame. They weaved in and out of each other, and the two of them stood in the middle of it all, deadly calm, still slowly rotating just their wrists as sweat beaded on their foreheads. Or hers, at least. Tom didn't look anywhere near as taxed and exhausted as she felt.

He grabbed her wrist without warning, and she panicked, not understanding this sudden movement. The flames extinguished almost immediately, but the magic behind it seem to suck into the back end of his wand and he pressed it against the empty charm on her bracelet. When he was done, he released his grip and examined his work. The blackened gem that she had used up last week glowed and flickered again, just as bright as before.

Tom studied the charm with her, and tucked his wand away. She stared at him.

"It would have been a waste to just let the magic disappear," he offered. "Besides, you will probably be needing that in the future." His voice seemed almost worried, but it was still firm and suggested that she not pry what he meant. Surely though, he had meant something by it?

Something else nagging at the back of her mind, and she whirled to face him.

"My fire was just as big as yours." He nodded. "That can't be right."

"What do you mean?"

"You're more powerful, and you know it. You weren't holding back. Well, maybe a little. But not by much!" Perturbed, he gave her a smile. So she had noticed.

"Keep practising what I showed you, when you can. You'll find it'll take a _long_ time to achieve that level again on your own. When you do, we'll do this again." With that, he inclined his head towards the mansion, and they made their way back silently. He escorted her right to her door, but as she reached for the knob, she sensed he was waiting for something and paused.

"I heard about what happened at Grimmauld."

"I see."

"I guess you put up quite the fight. I've never been against that decrepit old goat myself, but I trust Severus knows what he's talking about. He speaks very highly of you." Tom watched his daughter turned her head towards him slightly, then down as she blushed at the praise. Tom smiled. Like her mother, recognition was the most sought after reward, especially from those who loathed to give it. He struggled to find the words he wanted, and finally, resigned, he told her quietly: "_I'm_ proud of you too, you know."

Her head snapped up at this, eyes wide and searching him for any deceit. Tom felt the foreign swell of happiness take hold of his chest. So his opinion held just as much merit as her favourite Professor. This was good, but now he felt the need to address something she may not be as keen about.

"Hermione, that day, in the dining room... I'll admit that I was purposely trying to provoke you." She frowned.

"I don't understand."

"As your father, I have certain expectations of you, and sometimes they may be higher than you like. I didn't know what kind of damage that Obliviate may have left behind, and it made me angry. Things started to happen – the incident on your birthday, the Ark, the episode with Albus, and I realized that you were still growing. Yet, you have a tendency to overexert yourself, which could be the result of a several problems. What if you didn't have the capability to control your magic? Guesses and speculation are all I had to go on, and they weren't in your favour. So, wanting to know what you were truly capable of, I provoked you. From dealing with your wrath firsthand, I knew exactly how to train you. I also realized that most of my fears were unfounded - you're an overachiever. Severus, by the way, didn't hesitate to let me know that's what he's been saying the whole time." Tom offered a shrug in apology, though Hermione suspected he wasn't really sorry - the man wasn't one to just take someone's word on something. Not if it was important.

"But... what about Draco?" He had been waiting for this question since the first day. When Draco had shown up, this had been an initial sore point with Hermione. If it had been anyone else, she would have been downright resentful.

"I have no doubt that Draco gained valuable experience from our training sessions, but the lessons themselves catered to you. I like the boy, but he is not my son, and therefor not my responsibility. I've also known him since he was born - his abilities are no secret to me." He tentatively reached up and cupped her chin. Showing affection wasn't something he was familiar with – so both of them were awkwardly aware that he was touching her. "Sometimes I think that I should have arranged better protection for you and Cassandra. That I should have looked harder. Should have, could have – hindsight is a horrible thing, isn't it? So many years, lost." He let go of her then, and turned away. "I will probably not see you again until Easter. At least _try_ to stay out of trouble."

"Father," she called after him, and he turned back at her address, looking surprised but pleased. "That day... you said you wanted me to be a trifle better. Better than who, though? Who did you mean?" He regarded her for a moment, and she could see his mouth twist up into an arrogant smirk.

"Me, of course. When I was your age. You didn't possibly think I meant those dunderheads you attend class with now, did you?"

She stared at him in shock, and he tilted his head to the side as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

"All parents want their children to succeed, Hermione. Even Dark Lords." And then, finally, after a long look, he turned and disappeared down the hallway.

* * *

><p>She was still unhappy that she had to go back to school, but not as much so. Hermione couldn't blame her father for saying his goodbyes last night, she decided, but he could have at least warned her. Narcissa wrapped her in a tight hug, then fretted and frowned and picked almost feverishly. Now she knew why Draco had graciously allowed her to mother him before break – he was used to it. She was asked four times whether or not they had everything, then reminded to send mail and let them know if there was anything she needed. Finally, a small satchel of sweets and treats was shoved into her hands and they were on their way. Lucius had looked a mixture of sorry and amused, and just patted them both on the shoulders.<p>

If there was any doubt on the validity of her attending Yuletide with him, it was scratched when the two of them appeared at the station, hand in hand. They sat together on the train, alone, while the rumours swept through the rest of the cars quickly. 'Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, did you hear? Did you know?'

The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs seemed curious as to how a relationship between two leading members of Slytherin and Gryffindor could come about. The Gryffindors had more mixed reactions. Some seemed shocked, others were angry. Harry looked confused for the most part, whereas Ron cast her dark looks. Then again, that was nothing new. She was surprised to see a hint of jealousy about him – with the way he had been treating her, she had long ago dismissed the idea that he even remotely liked her. Ginny looked as though she wanted to say something, but was dragged away by her brother. By the end of dinner she did manage a wink, and Hermione relaxed at knowing that she still had Ginny, at least, on her side.

The Slytherins accepted the couple as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Maybe it was because they had been subjected to it already, first at the ball and then on occasion through the break. Maybe it was due to their naturally flippant personalities, or because they were already aware that the senior Malfoys had accepted her graciously. It was safe to assume that she wasn't stealing Draco off to join the Light. There had been rumours that she had tried and failed, but no one knew much about that. What they did know was Hermione belonged to them now. Nabbing a Gryffindor, let alone the Head Girl, had been a wonderful Yuletide gift. For those who played ruby, or had attended the ball, already knew that she wasn't as insufferable as she used to be.

Besides, even if she was a complete hag, Draco was their leader. Unlike Gryffindor, they didn't turn on him at the drop of a hat. Considering Gryffindor was supposed to be known for their loyalty, this amused Hermione to no end. Or, didn't amuse her, perhaps, as she looked at the Slytherin table sullenly. It looked fun over there. Casual. Friendly. What had the world come to?

It was good that she had been accepted over there, at least. She turned her attention back to her own table and decided that the Gryffindors had all but disowned her. She saw more than one person go to one of the prefects for help through dinner. _Fine_, she thought. _Less work for me. _

She dismissed herself early and approached the Room of Requirement, entering only after reassuring herself that no one was nearby. Stepping into the room, she felt like she hadn't been here for ages, but then again, perhaps she hadn't been. The room rumbled, and she realized it was a greeting.

_Hermione Riddle, you've returned._

"Yes. Like I promised," she replied quietly while drawing her fingertips along the wall as she made her way to the far board.

_You have grown stronger again. This is good to see. _

"Yes. And I have thoroughly studied the book for your runes. I'll be starting to free you tonight." They shared a comfortable silence while Hermione flipped through the pages, opening it to what she was looking for. There would be time to go from start to finish later, but for now there was one little tidbit she had to complete before anything else. She pulled a tool belt from her bag – a parting gift from her father to help make things just a touch easier.

She climbed the rolling ladder that was hooked to the boards, and pushed off. Second board, fourth row down, fifth rune. There it was. The rune for entrance. She raised her wand and banished it, leaving the spot free for a fresh rune to be placed. Despite being gone, the old command would remain activated until overridden by a new one.

The task sounded, and looked, a lot easier in theory. She rummaged around the pockets of her belt, glad to have it on hand, and pulled out her instruments for rune casting – the chalk, a ruler, a small measuring tape. The runes had to be _perfect_ – scrawls could be fatal. Too small and the old command would remain in tact. Too big and it would be amplified, draining her magic and killing her. An incorrect line or dot or loop could mean something completely different. Perfection was a necessity in this case, and though daunting, it was a speciality that Hermione prided herself on. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that, next to Albus, she really might have been the only person able to do this.

She measured and traced and outlined the spot she would be casting, then carefully took her chalk and replaced it with a gatekeeper rune. It was just chalk, but it sparked and hissed as it was transferred to the board, and Hermione stepped back and wiped at the nervous sweat that had formed on her brow. Simple enough, maybe.

The small benefit she didn't realize she would be getting was the commentary from the castle. _It's perfect, _she agreed, as Hermione studied her work from afar.

Of course the castle _would_ know best if the rune was right or wrong, she realized, and felt a little more relaxed. It was nice to know that her very first attempt wasn't going to be a complete failure. As soon as it was activated, the castle would be in charge of who could come and go, and Dumbledore would no longer be able to restore his hold. She frowned and touched it, closed her eyes, and activated it like her father had told her to do. It would be the only other time she did this before the war.

She felt a bit of her magic drain from her – nothing alarming- but it caused her to mildly wonder what it would be like to activate the entire room. Enough time to worry about that later.

There was still so much work to be done. She had come here to only do that one rune, but excited to get started now, she decided tonight would be as good as any. After all, she did have the entire evening free, and no wish to face her castle mates. She found herself moving back to the first board.

She erased it entirely, carefully, and Hermione could have sworn that the castle gave a shudder of delight. The weight of containment had been smothering, and even though there would be no more freedom for months, that sliver she had returned was flexed and revelled. The castle had existed for over a thousand years and had been trapped for decades. A few more months was as good as tomorrow for her, and Hermione couldn't help but be caught up in the good mood that the castle was projecting.

When the board was spotless and ready, Hermione climbed back on the ladder and set the book down, repeating the same steps she had for the first one. It was completed within a quarter hour – much better time. The castle once again approved, and she decided this wasn't so bad. She did the math: There were only one thousand four hundred and ninety-eight more runes to complete. Her goal was to complete one board a month, giving January a little extra effort since they were already a week in with no progress. Each board had the rune plot of 10 x 50. She took into account that she could probably do more on weekends, but naturally there would be nights she had to make appearances elsewhere. She'd like to go to the rugby matches that would be resuming again soon. Cleaning the boards took a lot of time, but there were only three total. Finally, she decided, if she could complete twenty-five or more runes a night, she'd be golden. She reminded herself not to rush. It still had to be perfect.

When finished thirty, she stepped off the ladder and collapsed on the floor, sweating heavily. There was a cool breeze that suddenly came from the barred window above, and Hermione realized that the castle was trying to help her recover. She grunted in thanks, then propped herself up on her arms.

The castle did not respond, but once again she felt foreign emotions seep into her consciousness. _Gratitude_. _Curiosity_.

What time was it? Hermione didn't know, but felt like she might be able to do a few more. Climbing back up, she started to work again, taking more frequent breaks through the evening. Despite this, time was a foreign concept.

She woke up on the floor the next morning, light flooding in through the bars. Back sore and limbs stiff, she climbed to her feet and promised not to push herself that hard in the future. She had managed a little over fifty runes last night, she thought gleefully, and each one was perfect. Unfortunately, writing them still drained magic, and because she had depleted all she had, she had nothing left to offer for today. Maybe she would skim over the book again. Surely there was something to be interpreted differently now that she had started?

The castle seemed to be asleep herself, and a bit on the grouchy side, she limped from the room. Hermione left all of her rune materials behind.

Definitely would have to pace herself in the future, she decided. After reaching her common room and cleaning herself up, she headed to the Great Hall for breakfast, working out whatever remaining kinks she had. Though tired, once she started eating, she felt some of her strength came back. She mildly thought of Ron as she shoved bacon and eggs and toast and fruit into her mouth with little or no manners.

Even though she was still tired, she felt loads better, and pushed herself up to start heading towards class. Forgetting that her bag was open, her Charms book tipped out and landed on the floor. She reached to pick it up, but just as her fingers were about to close around the spine, it went skittering under the table and out of sight. The hall fell silent immediately, and Hermione looked up to see Ron towering above her, smug look on his face.

She didn't mind that the boys had cut her off. It was better that way. But they had been friends for over six years, and to show open hostility now was awful. She didn't know if she should cry or start hexing. Before she had to decide, Blaise Zabini came noisily hopping over both the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor table, book in hand. He shouldered Weasley back a step, and held out his offering politely.

"I believe this belongs to you." She took it and muttered a thanks, but the boy wasn't done, and turned towards her assailant.

"As a Slytherin, I shouldn't have had to come over here, Weasley. Yet I find myself returning Granger's book, something that shouldn't have happened in the first place. Or did Gryffindors cut out loyalty over winter hols?"

"Shove off." Again Ron tried to push Zabini out of the way, but Blaise hopped out of the way and tripped the lankier boy. It took a second hook and pull of his leg to get him to tumble to the floor, and Ron scrambled back to his feet almost immediately and reached for his wand. The Slytherin grabbed his wandarm roughly, and Hermione could tell by the look on Ron's face it wasn't a light grip.

"Should watch where you're going," Blaise offered, voice low. "That's the second time you haven't noticed what's in front of you." Then releasing the arm, and pretending to be casual, the boy gave her a friendly little bow and went hopping back over the tables.

The hall, even the teachers, were all watching curiously to see what would happen next. Ron, always the idiot who was blissfully unaware of his surroundings, looked like he was deciding how to exact his revenge. Harry quickly approached him, and muttered something in his ear and pulled his friend away. By the way his head swivelled and his cheeks darkened, it was obvious that he had been alerted to the scene he was making.

Potions was tense. She was the last to enter the class, and on one side of the room sat the Slytherins, on the other, Gryffindors. There was an open desk on the Slytherin side today - the spot that was often saved for Draco, who was curiously absent. The other spot was beside Ron, which was peculiar since Harry was usually his partner. But Harry had paired up with Seamus today, and suddenly she was being presented with a choice.

The room was silent as they watched her. Pansy inclined her head ever so slightly to let the girl know she was welcome to sit next to her. She assumed that the entire room knew what Ron was up to. He had purposely left a spot beside him, knowing that she'd have to take it. For whatever reason, Pansy had offered her an alternative.

Sitting with the Gryffindors would allow her to curb at least a little of the hostility, however, she would have to sacrifice a good part of her dignity in the process. Ron had treated her horribly, and they'd sit there in tense silence, Ron glaring and expecting some sort of apology the entire time while Hermione gritted her teeth and curbed the urge to strangle him. The two of them had never been good partners, and with the mood they were both in, they would probably end up melting a cauldron or two.

Sitting with Pansy, of all people, would really piss in Ron's proverbial wheaties, and at the same time provide some stimulating conversation. It might also involve a declaration of war from the Gryffindors, but at least she would enter battle knowing that she had achieved a passing grade on her last assignment.

The decision was a hard one, but in the end, she did the the most reasonable thing. She had never been one to sacrifice a grade, and she wasn't about to start now. She slid her bag off her shoulder and sat down next to the Slytherin girl. Hermione, remembering Parkinson's personality a little too late, had to purse her lips and stare the other girl down until her gloating was at least a little less palpable.

When Professor Snape came in, he didn't say anything, but he wanted to throw his head against the table a few times. He was pretty sure her father had _explicitly_ told her to stay out of trouble. First day of classes and she was already failing miserably. He sighed and watched her through gritted teeth as her and Pansy worked together flawlessly, then let his gaze slide over to Weasley's cauldron. Potter may be a royal pain in the backside, but the boy was proficient. Without him to keep the potion in check, it bubbled and foamed dangerously.

"Ah, Mr Weasley," he offered, taking the vial away from the boy who was about to grudgingly test it. "Regretfully, the Headmaster has strictly forbidden me to allow students to poison themselves while under my care." As if to prove a point, he tipped the vial over and let a few drops hit the table. The wood sizzled as the acidic concoction burnt through it. Ron's ears flushed red in embarrassment and horror, and Snape considered pressing the matter further, but stopped. She would have been excellent ammunition, but Severus, with years of experience in pushing people to their limits, knew that condoning her actions now could break him, and put Hermione in danger.

As much as he hated to do it, he opted for silence then, and banished the boy's potion away for him. The matter would still need to be addressed.

"You can leave early, Mr Weasley, your mind is clearly somewhere else today." Then, addressing the class, he made sure to look equally between all of the students involved. "Perhaps tomorrow we should all stop playing musical chairs, and revert to the original seating. I find there to be a lot less hiccups in my classroom that way." Several heads bobbed in cowed agreement, and Severus, reassured that he had caused Ronald to feel defeated, but not singled out and vengeful, returned to his desk and resumed looking displeased. _ This_ was why he never planned to have kids - intolerable, the whole lot of them.

* * *

><p>"Traitor." She could hear the trace of laughter in his voice. Turning, she met a matching expression, and he leaned down to kiss her briefly before seating himself on the sofa beside her. "I heard you had an interesting day."<p>

"Oh yes," she replied mockingly. "I spent most of it cursing you and your absence. Really, you'd think it a crime to mingle with Slytherins."

"It is, didn't you know?" Then, after a thought, he asked. "Where were you last night? You never came back. I was worried."

"I started fixing the castle, and lost track of time. Slept there." He frowned, remembering what Hermione had told him about the room.

"There's no bed." She rubbed her still sore thigh and sank further into the cushions.

"Oh, trust me, I know. And it's all wood. Made for a very regretful morning." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He threw himself down beside her and opened his book. Unlike Hermione, he didn't have any forthcoming missions still. There was no need to go visit the centaurs. Other people were taking care of other magical recruits.

Keep your eyes and ears open, Tom had told him. That was it. All Draco had to do was study, do his Potions project, and practise dumping his magic like he had been trained over winter break. As time passed - first one week, then two - he became bored and worried about his girlfriend.

Hermione would lock herself away, sometimes for entire weekends, feverishly trying to get ahead on her task.

Draco became increasingly worried as time went on. She skipped meals, she looked sickly. She still attended classes, but didn't pay attention and was the first one out. She often came in too late to even say hello. One night she had just helped herself into his room, and he had woken to find her snuggled against him comfortably. When prompted, she said that she had missed him and apologized for not being around.

It helped curb both the despair they harboured at seeing less of the other, but Draco couldn't help but feel she was hiding something from him. Something was wrong. He knew she had made a schedule, and for her not to follow it, was rare. She was coming dangerously close to rousing suspicion from the Professors.

It wasn't until the beginning of February that she was snapped her out of her obsession.

Like usual, Hermione had been glaring in frustration at the board in front of her while rubbing the chalk absently between thumb and forefinger. The first board was complete, and looked wonderful and elegant. The second wall was well on its way, well over half done as of last night, and she was quite impressed at the speed she was going. Despite her irritation she couldn't help but feel a bit of pride swell up inside of her. Yes, she had to figure this out alone, but it didn't mean she couldn't feel the occasional brush of pleasure when the castle let her. She was way ahead of schedule at least, which made her feel a little better.

If she noticed him come in, she didn't say anything. He had pleaded with the castle for the better part of an hour – he needed to see her. Even Snape, who understood the importance of her task, had started to get worried. When a reason was demanded of him, he had sank to his knees.

"I miss her," he had offered miserably. "Please let me just sit and watch. I won't distract her. _Please_."

He thought the castle was going to reject him, but finally the door had appeared.

_She works too hard_, the castle told him quietly. _Perhaps I am being selfish in letting her continue like this._

He didn't say anything, but let himself inside quietly. There hadn't been a table or chair before when she had described the room to him, but he figured Hermione had finally requested something to sit on. Draco wondered if Hermione would notice even if he made any noise. She seemed to be drawn into her own world.

He had seen runes set once before, and had thought the crusty old geezer doing them looked pretty cool. Watching Hermione, he realized, was much more riveting.

He watched her drag the chalk slowly, perfectly, across the towering slate. He watched her magic drain from her, giving momentary life to the symbols she left behind. Runed chalk always showered sparks and glowed briefly when it transferred, but not quite in the same vibrant gold that Hermione's did. Maybe it was the kind of chalk (after all, it was supposed to be the best), or maybe it was her – he didn't know.

He reached for the scattered papers that sat on the small round table nearby, then withdrew his hand as if burnt. He could do nothing to aid her, all he could do was watch her take this seemingly impossible task. He frowned and was lost to his own thoughts. He didn't see her finish the forty-seventh line on the board. He didn't notice as she concealed her tools carefully and folded the chalk away into a square of protective cloth. He didn't notice that she had approached him until she touched his shoulder gently, and he jumped in surprise.

"Draco," she murmured, eyes kind but laced with fatigue. She was well aware what the pained expression on his face was for. "I'm sorry I haven't been around."

She audibly wished the castle goodnight and lead him from the room. She stopped to stare out one of the stairwell windows, a hand pressed against the frosted glass. She smiled weakly.

"What do you see?"

"Everything." She traced the window with her forefinger. "It's strange, but the more I complete, the more I see and feel. The castle is using me, I know this, yet when I feel her pleasure wash over me I can't help but feel refreshed. I feel I can finish, that I'm doing this of my own free will. Soon I will be done, and what then? I wonder." He frowned. If she kept up this pace it would still be weeks, he realized. That was not all that soon.

Draco's presence into her sanctuary would only be the start. He had put the seed of doubt in her mind. If he had to come for her, she wasn't around enough. She forced herself to start showing up for meals again, and caught wind of an awful rumour. The other students thought Draco was mistreating her, and she realized this had been circulating for almost the full month.

"Don't you care what people are saying," she panicked, waving her arms wildly one night. "Why didn't you say something? 'Hermione, people are noticing you acting a little wonky. Hermione, you're ignoring everything around you. Hermione, if you're going to be a recluse, at least pay some mind to me.' Something? Anything!" Draco smiled and shrugged.

"I know it's not forever. You have to do what you have to do. I'll admit I was getting worried, but Uncle Severus kept telling me to suck it up. Well, until recently. He started getting a bit worried too, though he'd never admit it. When the castle finally let me in to at least keep you company, it got a lot better."

"Draco, people think you've drugged me." He nodded.

She decided in the end to fiercely argue that Draco had not drugged her, beat her, or generally mistreated her to anyone who even looked like they might think it.

"I've been studying for NEWTs. Haven't you?" She'd say, and then admit she may have overdone it before Draco told her to take it easy. Of course, if he had, maybe they wouldn't be in this predicament now. No, they probably would still be.

With meals and classes back to normal, Draco noted, with some relief, that her pale complexion started to return to normal. The rings from underneath her eyes faded, and the rumours that he was causing her some kind of distress faltered. She started going to the rugby matches again, and by the third game, she was back to her old self. When the other students were convinced that Draco had _not _been the cause of her discord, everyone settled back into the same sort of easy friendship that they had before.

The following Thursday, Hermione approached him a set schedule, demanding that she was to attend all meals, be back before ten, and she was not to work on Saturday or during the match on Sundays. If she did, he was to immediately come and collect her. Laughing at the way her jaw was set, and arms folded, he finally agreed. It made them both feel more assured she wouldn't fall into the same, vicious cycle again.

Regardless, he let her work late on Friday anyway, and didn't show up until after midnight to escort her back to the room. He laughed at her groan of rage on Saturday when he shook her awake.

"Rise and shine, sweetheart. It's Valentine's Day." She came flying upright, bonking their heads painfully as she did so, and both howled in pain. Draco ended up laughing and pulling her from her bed, and she continued to complain and purposely make herself deadweight until he dropped her on her bathroom floor. "It's Valentine's Day," he repeated. "And we're going to Hogsmeade."

"Oh we are, are we?"

"Indeed. You wouldn't want people to think I'm mistreating you, would you?" And at that she scowled and slammed the door in his face.

Hermione had taken care with her appearance, but she still lumbered into the dining hall resembling a zombie. Her subconscious was obviously steering her to where she wanted to go, rather than where she should go, because she landed on the breakfast bench smack dab between Draco and Blaise.

"Coffee." She ordered, and when Draco pushed the cup in front of her she poured honey into it until it was taken from her.

Luckily, breakfast was a much less formal event than dinner, and it was Valentine's Day, so Hermione sitting at the wrong table was taken in stride. It still caused a fresh wave of gossip to explode though, but Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen, so the mood remained light and humoured. Ginny, who had been sitting at the Gryffindor table waiting patiently, muttered something to her friends and came over to the Slytherin table too.

"I purposely got rid of Harry and Ron this morning so I could sit beside Hermione. Since she's over here, can I join you all?" she asked, and the table all studied her in indecision. Blaise, who sat across from Draco, motioned to the spot beside him. Any other Gryffindor would have gotten a resounding no, but the Weasley girl was just as well liked as Hermione was.

"You've caused a scene," Draco muttered out the side of his mouth at his girlfriend, and it was then that her coffee finally set in. Blearily, she finally realized where she was. Well, there was nothing she could do now, and at Draco's narrowed eyes she just shrugged.

"Oops, sorry." There were several snickers at the obvious lack of caring in her tone. She noticed she wasn't the only Gryffindor here. "Oh! Hey Ginny, what you doing over here?" Ginny smiled broadly at her, and content that her friend wasn't being held hostage, she reached to fill her tray with breakfast.

"Could ask you the same thing. Was just was telling these guys I worked extra hard to be alone today so I could sit with you for breakfast! Happy Valentine's Day!" Hermione grinned and noticed that she was right – Harry and Ron really weren't here.

"Out of curiosity, how _did _you manage that?" Ginny's smile didn't falter, but her eyes turned mischievous as she answered.

"Oh, Fred and George released some new products for testing, and you know how Ron _loves_ to help out his family." Most of the table didn't understand, but Hermione did and snorted.

"And what have they come out with now?" The girl explained how the twins had made perfect replicas of chocolate frogs, using muggle laxative chocolate as the main ingredient. Hermione nearly snorted coffee from her nose, and choked in the process. "That's just cruel, Ginny!" Ginny raised her hands, pretending not to understand the problem.

"But the two of them will have some bonding time, right? And isn't that what Valentine's Day is all about?" Finally in on the joke, the rest of the Slytherin table laughed at the misfortune of their two least favourite students.

Draco made some sort of subtle gesture to Blaise that she caught from her peripheral vision, but she didn't ask questions. Her interest was piqued when she felt his leg move, and Blaise suddenly yelped in surprise. Understanding dawned on the other boy's face and he mouthed an okay to his friend. Hermione raised an eyebrow at Draco, but he just winked at her.

When the students started to file out after breakfast to head to Hogsmeade, Draco made them wait. Again, she was curious what he was up to, but it seemed she didn't have to wait long this time. Blaise and Ginny came around the corner arm in arm.

"Double date?" Draco asked, pretending he didn't already know, and Blaise nodded with a grin. Hermione almost laughed – what a pleasant surprise this was, and Ginny didn't look the least bit shy about it. But... what about Harry?

She realized that the chances between those two must have died off somewhere along the way. If Ginny liked Harry as much as Hermione thought she did, she would have never fed him laxatives. Harry probably wouldn't be too keen on her for a long time.

No matter, she thought. She could accept this!

They popped in and out of the shops, sometimes buying things, sometimes just looking at the merchandise. Spintwitches, a sporting goods store, had a collection of flags – a knut per strip. Hermione suggested they could switch up the games sometimes and make it so they could only score if they had a flag in possession. The three other students took interest in the idea, and started rummaging through and picking out colours. Blaise said that Slytherin would adopt them - the girl's could just wear green. Gryffindor didn't really deserve a colour, after all. Both girls huffed and argued that even if the majority of their house were prats, it was still their house.

"Two red, please!" And in spite Hermione paid for those two and handed one to Ginny to smack Blaise with a few times on the way out. It seemed their visit to the sporting goods store had gotten around, because several students asked them what they bought. At the news of playing Flags, they chattered excitedly. They distributed some of them to their regulars, and soon students ran all around the small village trying to steal each other's flags. The game went into even the stores, and more than once they heard a shop owner yell in frustration as something was carelessly knocked over. The four students exchanged looks: _What have we done?_

Honeydukes was packed, like always, but not packed enough for Hermione to miss Blaise buying Ginny whatever she wanted. Ginny was obviously telling him he didn't have to, but the Slytherin boy just smiled slyly and shoved a chocoball into her mouth, which meant they _had_ to buy it then. Mr. Flume, the owner, laughed and took Blaise's money – congratulating him on an inventive way to get a girl to accept his chocolate.

Afterwards, Hermione wanted to go the bookstore, of course, so Draco escorted her. Blaise and Ginny opted for Zonko's, so after plans for lunch they parted ways. They were done sooner than expected, so arm in arm, they wandered around until they reached the quiet clearing and fence that overlooked the Shrieking Shack.

He smiled grimly, and sensing that he wasn't in a good mood suddenly, she tried to meet his eyes. He wouldn't look at her. "Draco, What's wrong?" He took a deep breath and she felt herself start to panic. He was looking for words, she knew, and if he was doing it with such a serious expression on his face, it couldn't be good.

"Why haven't you said anything? Did you assume we already knew, or were you just going to die quietly and surprise us?" She felt her heart skip a beat, and suddenly she felt childish. She had thought he would say something like, 'You know, I just don't think this is going to work out', or something horrible like it. Him breaking up with her... she should have known better, they had never harboured such a wishy washy relationship. They would always try to talk things out first. This, she decided, was unexpected, and possibly just as bad. What was she supposed to say?

"I don't know what you're talking about." As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it was the wrong answer. He smacked her hand away and stood with his back to her, visibly tensed.

"Don't lie to me," he muttered angrily. They stood like that for a long time, at an impasse. When he finally spoke again, it was calmly, but almost too low to hear. "Answer." Silence again. Then, knowing she was only making things worse by staying quiet, she swallowed, hard.

"I knew," she whispered. "But what was I supposed to say? Besides... I promised."

"You didn't promise to die!" He screamed then, and she realized that his shaking hadn't been from fury. When he turned back to her, tear tracks were staining his cheeks and he approached her quickly, sinking to his knees, clutching her desperately and burying his face in her coat. He muttered something, but she couldn't quite hear him.

"Draco," she said, tears now welling up in her eyes. This wasn't a topic she had ever wanted to discuss – it wasn't something she even wanted to face. The fact of the matter was that it was very possible she didn't have enough magic to activate the wards, but it wasn't something you started and then just gave up halfway. You couldn't withdraw and say: "Well! I tried. Maybe next time?" As soon as you started, they would drain every last bit of your mana until complete. She knew the castle would be restored, if not from her mana pool alone, from her life – her core. She didn't like it, but yes, it was worth winning the war for.

It hurt more that Draco had nailed it spot on – she had fully intended to keep it a secret. She knew it hadn't been fair to him, but she didn't want anything to change. She wanted to enjoy her last few months with him. As soon as she had realized she might not make it, that's what had fuelled her obsession. Work hard now, enjoy your remaining time in leisure.

"I love you," he repeated, and she realized that was what he had been crying into her coat, over and over. She clutched him tighter. She already knew they loved each other, but they had never said it out loud. Hearing it laced with such despair melted her reserve not to cry. He twisted his head to look up at her – pleadingly, and she felt her heart shatter.

"What about me?" he asked. "Do you think winning the war is worth _anything_ to me if I can't have you? Well? Do you?" She sunk down beside him and wrapped him in her arms, and they sobbed together softly at a fate they couldn't change. So wrapped up in their grief, they didn't notice the couple who had come up on them, and now stood staring. Ginny reached back and gripped Blaise's hand tightly, her free hand covering her own muffled sob. They had heard _everything_.

"Blaise," she choked. "Do you have any idea what's going on here?" The younger male, upset himself, just shook his head sadly, then realized she couldn't see him.

"No. Not quite," he offered. "But I think it's time we find out. Ginny..." he frowned, realization dawning on him. He had always suspected that Draco supported his parents and Tom Riddle, but this had confirmed it. Hermione had some part to play herself, and he knew his friend would never involve himself with the enemy – even if he cared for her.

That only meant one thing.

Ginny was just as quick witted as he, though slower to act on it, and he regretfully pulled his hand from her grasp and pressed the tip of his wand between her shoulder blades. She flinched, but didn't move otherwise. _Damn it!_ He didn't want to do this.

"Forgive me," his voice soft but resigned. "But I need to know what you're going to do."

Ginny raised her hands in surrender, turning to face him. If he could see her, maybe he would be less inclined to act rashly. She looked determined, but not angry. Not betrayed. Maybe a little upset with the decision that she was suddenly pressed for.

"Are you going to kill me?"

"What? Of course not," he whispered angrily, thrown off by her bluntness. "I was thinking an Obliviate would fix the problem. I don't exactly dislike you, you know, I just have to protect my friends. Merlin," he swore. "Kill you? Is _that_ what you think we jump to first?" Ginny, turning up the corner of her mouth and deciding she liked Blaise, no matter the outcome, answered calmly.

"No, I guess that is kind of silly, isn't it? Well... what am I going to do, then? I think I'm going to march right in there and demand some answers. By the look on your face, this is all news to you too, so you just stay behind me with that wand extended, if it makes you feel better. Then you can ask me again after she answers my question."

"Does it make a difference?"

"Oh yes," she replied, a little darkly. "One involves me getting Obliviated, which I think I actually prefer if I can't agree. If it's a good reason – and let me tell you, it better be a _damn_ good one – I'm... well." She hesitated, then her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'm not sure. We'll have to see. Is that good enough for you, at least for now?"

Blaise nodded. Hopefully Hermione had a really good explanation in store. He kind of liked this girl.

* * *

><p>AN: Gasp. An early chapter! _Holy smokes!_ The feedback last week was phenomenal and somehow, in my overflowing joy, this leg finished itself quicker than usual.

Anyway! Next week (since I seem keen on telling you all what's going to happen these days) we'll be covering Ginny's reaction, along with spring hols which is bound to be exciting with a surprise visitor. Okay, so it's not actually exciting, and it's kind of depressing actually, but it's been sitting in my prewritten log since the beginning, and it's finally time for it to come to pass.

Though we can't expect another release by Saturday, hopefully I will get a few more good writing days and will be able to offer you a new release. Thank you again to everyone who reviewed, it was very much enjoyed and appreciated!


	9. Chipping In

**CHAPTER 9**  
>Chipping In<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>Damn<em>," Ginny repeated for what had to be the tenth time. "That's just... _rude_." Of course, the entire situation could be looked at that way, but leave it to Ginny to sum it up as simply as possible. "They just... killed your mum? Just like that?"

"I think it was an accident, actually. Mum was the first to be casting spells she shouldn't have been, and I'm still not sure what hit her – but it wasn't an Avada. I've had a lot of time to try to accept it and..." she frowned. " Not quite sure why I'm defending the Headmaster all of a sudden." Ginny nodded vigorously at this.

Lunch was supposed to have been at the Hog's Head. Despite the fact that people went there all the time to discuss private matters, it was a well known fact that at least three people would hear you, and one would pass it on. This was the _last_ thing they wanted getting out.

So, after procuring several bottles of heated butter bear and a flask of Ogden's finest, they had met up outside and broken into the side entrance of the Shrieking Shack. No one ever came here willingly, but they still did a quick sweep and warded the area to announce if anything approached within fifty paces.

Ginny reached for the firewhiskey, and threw her head back with the ease of a seasoned adult. Draco was silent and perched himself at a nearby window, butterbeer slowly rotating between his fingers, but remaining full and untouched. Hermione looked at him, worried. His upset had been interrupted by the arrival of Ginny and Blaise, but now that the initial threat was gone, he was back to his original depression.

She nibbled nervously on the chocolates that lay in the middle of them as she continued to explain everything. At the topic of the castle, Draco visibly scowled, and though it was a matter of _her_ dying, Ginny looked appalled and defended him fiercely.

"Why wouldn't you tell him something like that? I'd be pissed too. Actually, no - I am pissed! Pissed on his behalf! Shame on you, Hermione." The four of them sat in silence then, not sure what else to say. Finally, Ginny pushed herself to her feet.

"I almost wish that your explanation was ridiculous," she said quietly. "With reasons like those, I can't condemn you - any of you. Unfortunately, I still have a family who all supports the Order. I'll need to think about my options carefully, but until then, I won't breathe a word." Blaise's eyebrows soared to his hairline, and Hermione jumped to her feet, tears springing to her eyes.

"Oh Ginny, we're not asking you to join us! You could always take a neutral stance. It would keep you out of harm's way!" They hugged then, and Ginny repeated that she would think about it. She wasn't the kind of person to just sit back and let others do all the fighting, but then again, it was a tough decision.

They looped arms on the way back. Ginny and Blaise shared a couple of pointed looks between them, but Hermione could only decipher them as an agreement to discuss something later. Blaise eventually strode up next to Draco and left the girls, who began whispering between themselves.

By the time the four of them emerged from the alternative exit beneath the Whomping Willow, the sun was setting. They trudged up to the castle in subdued silence. Ginny moved to Blaise this time and entwined their fingers, and Hermione couldn't help but notice how Blaise didn't really seem to mind. She was happy for the two of them, and glancing wistfully at Draco, she wished he would cheer up at least a little. Or for now, at least go back to pretending nothing was wrong. When the time came, he held the door open quietly to the main hall. They didn't look at each other.

"I- I'm going to head off for a bit. I need some time to myself." With that, Hermione parted ways with the group, disappearing up the steps to the second floor.

"Where is she off to?" Blaise asked, surprised at how quickly she had taken off.

"Where else?" Draco spat bitterly, cursing the castle. Truth be told, he understood it wasn't something that she couldn't back down from. He even understood the hesitation she had expressed at telling him. He wouldn't want to tell her either, but he liked to think he would have! They didn't keep secrets, especially ones that could involve them dying... did they? A small part of him couldn't help but feel that maybe her sudden departure was partly due to his attitude, but it wasn't something he could help right now. He turned towards the dungeons.

"Draco," Ginny called, and he turned back, surprised. He had obviously been lost in his own thoughts – forgetting that the other two were even there. "We can't stop her."

"Can't help her, either," he muttered. "Do you understand how infuriating that is? I would give _anything_ to take her place." Then he kicked the wall, as if it would let the castle know how angry he was. Ginny frowned. She wasn't ready to let this drop. Not yet.

"You mean, you want to activate the runes?" He nodded, and he recognized that look. _But then you would die, and she'd be in this exact same predicament._ Besides, those who wrote the runes _had_ to activate them – everyone knew that. But no, there was something else. Ginny was making the same calculating face that Hermione had when she was about to figure something out. Without warning, she mashed her fist into her palm, startling both boys.

"The bracelet!" She looked at him expectantly, and realization dawned on him. _Of course_! Then, as an after thought, she grinned at Blaise and he nodded his agreement. Tears welled up in Draco's eyes as he looked between his two very determined friends. Truth be told, the thought_ had_ occurred to him before, but he knew that it would never be enough on his own. That had been the end of it - who else could he ask to help? The magic had to be freely given, familiar and accepted by her own core, or else it would be rejected. It could even bring harm to her. Tom would have been a great person to ask, but he had his own matters to attend to. Uncle Severus would also be viable, he realized, and filed that knowledge to discuss with his Godfather later. As for anyone else – they were too busy, on the wrong side, wouldn't care (the castle would activate one way or another), or had no magical connection with Hermione whatsoever. _But these two!_ They were perfect candidates - her core would be able to consume their magic without consequence, and that would be three times the amount of magic offered!

For the first time since he had figured out what she was hiding from him, he had a surge of hope. He had given her the bracelet for something like this – a situation that demanded more mana than she had. But he had been to distraught to think it through, of course.

While he drew his own conclusions, the other two realized that he had just needed a little push in the right direction. They watched his mind race, and it was a wonderful thing to see his worry being replaced by something so much more positive. Ginny cleared her throat, snapping Draco back to the present.

"I think it's time we had a little chat with the castle about how much mana Hermione's going to need. And afterwards," she smiled at Draco reassuringly. "I think it's time you showed us _exactly _how you fill those pretty little charms of yours."

* * *

><p>The castle had been eager to disclose the information they needed. After all, she was not malicious by nature, and she liked the young girl who was working on her runes. Hermione had proven to be very creative, always thinking up new ways to make the castle stronger. She liked that, and it helped restore her opinion that maybe not all witches and wizards were bad. With that in mind, the castle agreed that, if possible, she would very much like to have Hermione around afterwards – even if it was just for company.<p>

When prompted why Hermione only thought she _might_ die, the castle seemed almost guilty. It turned out that it wasn't a might. Rowena Ravenclaw, on activating the runes, had also forfeited her life. The teenagers shared long looks at this. Died of a heartbreak... what a crock! History should have stuck with the truth, as it was much more impressive. But, not knowing that the original caster had died, and not knowing that Dumbledore's manipulation took far less mana, it had led Hermione to believe that there would be a chance, even a slim one, that she might live. The castle saw how badly it had already shaken the girl, and didn't wanted to take that last bit of hope away from her.

_And who knew_, the castle offered. _Maybe she would come up with something?_ Or, as it turned out, maybe her friends would. As they explained it to her, she agreed that it was a good idea. Then she gave them an estimated cost, all three of them reeled back in horror.

When a witch or wizard sacrificed their core for something they believed in – offered up that last little spark of life – it was the equivalent a couple dozen witches and wizards put together. Draco nearly crumpled to the floor. He had drained himself for a good month _just_ for six of those things. Sure, they had two more people, and at least a few months to do it, but... _Merlin_.

This number had seemed steep, _too steep_, but Ginny had verified it several times with a determined frown, and got something a little less vague. The castle still agreed that the bracelets might work. He decided to be optimistic on the matter - they could do this! He owled his family to send him at least a dozen of the most advanced charms that they could find. There was no point filling up the same ones he had before – they wanted a bracelet, not a damn hula skirt.

Sometime after dinner, Draco remembered that he still had to attend to his Potions Project. For the last few months, he had been rotating through a steady cycle. First it would start with his thesis, which had been rewritten three times so far. Then, he would work his way through a variety of trial and error attempts. Finally, and regretfully, he would be forced back to the books to try to figure out why his project wasn't panning out.

Tonight he was in stage two, which had lasted much longer and was much more promising than any of his other attempts so far. _But Hermione..._

No, there was only so much he could do right now anyway. Mainly, he had to wait for the charms. With a resigned sigh he explained that he couldn't miss his appointment, and began the long trudge down towards the dungeons. He didn't stop Ginny and Blaise from accompanying him, and even felt a little swell of pleasure at the idea. Maybe he could do his project _and_ help plan at the same time. Hopefully Uncle Severus wouldn't blow a gasket if he found out.

He held up a hand to pause his friends at the door, then peeked in. Draco almost sighed in relief. His Godfather was nowhere to be seen, which meant he would have no awkward explanations to tend to first. He beckoned them to follow. As they seated themselves quietly, he pulled on his protective gear and started to check his ongoing experiments.

Content that they were as they should be, he stoppered a drop of unicorn tear into four out of the six cauldrons before him, then stirred three of them counterclockwise twice. Under his Uncle's supervision, he had come a long way with Potions, and his two friends watched with some awe as he moved between them gracefully, stirring some, prodding others, and generally wary of the one closest to Ginny.

When Professor Snape quietly entered the room, he could only stare at the group in bewilderment. He didn't recommend company at any time, though Zabini was possibly allowable. But the youngest Weasley? What was _she_ doing here?

He melted into the shadows by the door and opted to watch for a bit, resisting the urge to call out when Miss Weasley, unaware, leaned over the desk and sniffed the closest cauldron. Draco startled her with a yell, and she scuttled backwards.

"Are you daft? Be careful!"

He muttered something about that one being the most promising, then gave her a sharp look.

"You feel alright? You didn't inhale any?" Her head shook in a resounding 'no', and Blaise patted her shoulder as if to reassure her. Of what, Draco wasn't sure. If his calculations were correct, fumes wouldn't hurt, but Professor Snape had taught him to be careful no matter what. Expect the worst, he would say, that way you aren't caught unaware. Merlin! He would have felt absolutely awful if Ginny had been hit by its intended effects.

"What are you making?"

"Too early to say. Maybe I'll tell you another time – but it's a Potions Project, and they rarely pan out. This one just might, though. If it does... it'll be a wonderful addition. Well," he said as an afterthought, "maybe not a _wonderful_." Truth was, if it _did_ work – it would be quite the opposite. Introduced before Tom lead them to victory, it could be disastrous. People went to Azkaban for making this sort of thing – intentionally or not.

Pushing the thoughts away, and not having anything further to do for another half an hour, Draco pulled up a stool beside his two friends. All three were still oblivious to Professor Snape's presence, and they leaned in closely over some sort of paper and began whispering among themselves. Snape wanted to groan.

G_reat,_ he thought_. Another Golden Trio. Only... they were all _intelligent_ troublemakers, which would make it all the worse._

Finally, content that he wouldn't startle Draco into dropping something, and a little annoyed that he didn't know what they were plotting, Severus piped up from his spot in the doorway.

"I wasn't aware that you required an audience for your project, Mister Malfoy." The other two Slytherins looked up sharply, surprised, but Ginny was the one to simultaneously jump and twist in her chair.

"Professor Snape!" Then, casually, as Miss Weasley was always infuriatingly good at, addressed the feared Potions Master with a simple raise of her hand. He scowled and strode across the room in three strides, plucking the paper from between them. No one put up a fight.

Any feelings of triumph that he may have had at that point, disappeared.

"What is this?" he asked softly, studying the sheet closer. Ginny piped up.

"We're filling charms for Hermione," she confirmed, then looked to Draco who nodded softly. He would have told his Godfather at some point, so him finding out now was of no consequence. Severus reread what they had written down and frowned.

"I didn't realize... And this is cutting it very close, Draco. I don't think the war is going to wait that long." The blonde boy in front of him swallowed thickly, then almost looked angry.

"If we don't try, the activation _will_ kill her. I'm not going to sit around and do nothing, then spend the rest of my life wondering if I could have made a difference." There were nods of agreement from Ginny and Blaise. Then solemnly, Severus turned to Ginny.

"And what are you doing here, Miss Weasley?" She looked surprised for a minute, as if just realizing her presence _was_ a bit strange. But, shaking her head as though it didn't matter, she frowned and went on the defensive. He wouldn't send her away from this.

"Hermione is like a sister to me," she finally offered. "If I can make our deadline easier to reach, if I can be that little extra push that saves her life... well, it's exactly like Draco said, Professor." His features softened then, and he looked to Blaise who nodded firmly. This girl could be trusted. Pulling up a stool of his own, he rubbed his face warily.

Tom, from the beginning, had given him the impossible task of protecting her. He had been ordered to save her from the weight of betrayal she would eventually have to face, but as he eyed all three of the students before him, he realized that maybe that task wouldn't be as impossible as it seemed.

But, if he didn't help get her to that stage in life, at least, what kind of mentor would he be?

He offered the paper back by setting it down where he had taken it, then became uncomfortably aware that the stools were much lower than his regular chair or towering stance. The students around him were almost as tall as he was.

"Well," he said slowly, trying to sit up straighter so he had at least a little bit more height on them. "If you put it that way, I suppose I should help lower this deadline as well." He tried to make his voice sound as grave as he could, but the wave of smiles that broke out around him made his heart skip a beat. Draco chose that moment to launch from his chair and wrap his arms around his Godfather happily. He wasn't surprised, though maybe a little when he did it in front of the two other students. When Ginny, caught up in the moment, threw herself on him too, he could only sit there in muffled shock.

Severus Snape was pretty sure that if he didn't have one then, it was safe to say he would never be one to suffer from a heart attack.

He shot a warning look at Blaise, telling him silently that if he dared to add himself to the growing pile, he _would_ be hexing all three of them into next week. Blaise just raised his hands in surrender, never having intended to move from his stool. The laughter in his eyes though was contagious, and it took every ounce of experience that Severus had not to smile.

* * *

><p>Close to midnight, Draco came into the common room in high spirits. He threw his apron over the couch and sank down beside her. Hermione, half asleep, reached over to finger the material lightly, and without opening her eyes, murmured:<p>

"Interesting. You must be working on something quite exciting." Of course Hermione would use exciting when in reality she meant dangerous. Deadly. The apron was made of double layered dragonskin – not your typical student issued leather that was used for the more volatile concoctions.

"We _are_ working on something exciting," he finally said, unable to hold back anymore. She peeled an eye open in time to see him smile at her brightly. Sensing that they were no longer talking about his potion, she frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"The castle. We're working on it, and it looks promising. Just give us some more time." She raised an eyebrow but he just smiled wider and leaned in to kiss her forehead. _Don't ask anymore_, it said. But, for Hermione, it was enough. She had feared the tension of her looming death would force them apart, or worse, that Draco would just hold it all in again, willing himself to be strong for her sake. _No_, she thought, looking in his eyes. _He's up to something, and more importantly, he forgives me._

* * *

><p>When the charms came in, Draco immediately offered his Godfather two of them. Severus had expressed his wish to fill them in his own time and plucked an extra two, but didn't explain any further. Trusting his judgement, Draco took the remaining eight that was left.<p>

With all three students and his Godfather working to fill the alarming amount that the castle had disclosed to them, he thought they might, just might, be able to finish it on time. He hated to think what would happen if the war started too soon. Unfortunately, asking everyone to wait so they could make sure to save their friend was out of the question.

"I'm done," Blaise gasped one night, leaning back on his stool, sweat pouring off of him. Draco had never realized how far Hermione and him had come. Now, when it came to working beside the two other students, the gruelling task of expanding his mana pool seemed all to obvious. Ginny, also spent, was eying him critically.

"Cripes, I feel like a firstie compared to you. What kind of magical cheerios were you raised on?" Wiping the sweat off his brow, Draco grinned, a little tired himself. Then, horrified, she asked, "Please don't tell me that all the Death Eaters have the same monstrous reserves to draw on."

"No," he murmured, turning back to the charm and concentrating. "Very few do. Hermione and I have worked ourselves nearly to death to get this far. But, even then, it takes more than just hard work." Then, as if realizing that his comment may be taking as an insult, he shrugged in apology. "As I said, we've worked ourselves to death. That is a big part of why I can go so much longer."

Draco turned back to the charm and the corners of his mouth drew tight as he poured the last remnants of his magic into it. After a few minutes, he heaved a sigh and sat back. "Okay, I'm done too."

"So, does Hermione have the same monstrous talent you do?" If Blaise had been interested to know more about the girl who had won Draco over, it had doubled since Valentine's Day. Draco stared at his two friends, who both stared expectantly back. He had never thought of it before, but now that he was required to answer honestly, he shook his head slowly, giving a wistful chuckle at the thought.

"There's a big difference between me and her," he finally decided. "It's funny, because if you asked her, you'd get a completely different answer. Well, probably. But inbred talent and instinct is something Hermione has never put much merit in, so it's not something she takes into account. Right now we're pretty neck to neck, but one day soon I'm going to hit my limit and she's going go on sailing by. Hermione is even _more_ impressive when she's serious."

"When she's serious?" Draco nodded again.

"She's still really strong when we're duelling, but give her a reason to hate you and I bet even the Headmaster would have to take her seriously." Ginny nodded in agreement, and Draco eyed her critically. "I can guarantee you've never seen it, Ginny. Not since she's become," he waved his hand, unsure of the word he wanted, but feeling that summed it up. With a wolfish grin, Ginny shrugged. Maybe he was right, but it didn't mean she couldn't believe it. Hermione had always been strong willed. Talented. Hot tempered.

"How do you know she'll pass you?" Ginny asked, and both of his friends leaned in closer again, as if he was about to let them in on some worldly secret.

"I don't, but..." he tried to find the words he wanted. "Before, when Tom found out she had been Obliviated so young, he went crazy. He was _really_ upset about a stunted heir, and raved nonstop about it all the way into the holidays. I don't know what happened, exactly, but Hermione and him got into a fight. We arrived at the end – when it was just them. Both were pretty beat up."

"She hurt Voldemort?" Ginny and Blaise chimed together. They smirked at each other, and turned their attention back to Draco, who was nodding.

"Something changed after that – we all saw it. She really impressed him, and now she's invaluable. If anything were to happen to her, he'd be furious. Murderous. Maybe he's just come to care for her..." Both of his friends, again, mirrored looks of disbelief. "It's possible, but it's also likely he's figured something else out. Like... she's _not_ stunted, and is still developing. He's become absolutely obsessed – I don't know if she even realizes it. But that," he finally concluded, shrugging, "is how I reason she's going to pass me by. The Gaunt line, or the Slytherin line, I should say, has always been unreasonably powerful. Father says that by mixing muggle blood into it, it became a little more stable again. Not by much, mind you, but enough to make them intelligent enough to be ambitious, and not _just_ hate people."

Ginny whistled appreciatively. It seemed like she was learning something new everyday. She wished she could tell this to the Order, make them see that a lot of what they believed in was wrong. But Ginny knew that only the twins would be open minded enough to listen, and even then, family would always come first. It was a concept that disappointed Ginny – why did she only care about her family enough to feel _slightly_ guilty? The more she thought about it, the more she realized that the Order didn't actually _care_ about what they were fighting for. The Weasley children would blindly follow their parents, their parents would blindly follow Albus. The same could be said for most of the Order, and she felt more and more disconnected from them.

* * *

><p>While her friends were racing to complete the charms as soon as they could, Hermione had completed her own project and had spent the last few days checking over her runes. As expected, they were perfect.<p>

Spring Break had swiftly approached them, and in fact, everyone would be leaving the next morning.

The trio had made excellent time, and Draco promised to see how his Uncle was doing over the holidays, and help him if needed. Ginny and Blaise would stuff what they could into the already full charms, realizing that it certainly wouldn't hurt. Convinced that they had done the best they could, the three met up with Hermione late Saturday evening. Together they celebrated with late night snacks and hot cocoa.

Now that the castle was ready, the war could be on them at any time, and it was imperative that Hermione keep her mana stores topped up the best she could. For the first time in months she looked happy and energetic, and Blaise and Ginny could practically feel the magic radiating off of her in waves. Perhaps it was more noticeable when she was sitting in the midst of three, drained students, but if Draco noticed, he said nothing. For a brief moment, Ginny couldn't help but feel a little jealous and awed at her friend.

Finally bidding the other couple goodnight, Blaise escorted Ginny back to the common room. He walked beside her silently, recognizing that she was deep in thought, and knowing she would tell him when she had worked whatever out.

They had all done a lot in the last month and a half, and Hermione had gone even longer without a break. All four had pushed themselves to the point that their grades had started to slightly drop in any class that entailed casting. They deserved something more than a celebratory cup of chocolate, she decided. But what? By the time they reached the common room, she had finally come up with something they could do before they all went their separate ways for the holidays.

Besides, who knew when they would get another chance?

* * *

><p>"Hey Ginny," Blaise greeted her early the next morning. It was so early, in fact, that the morning mist still creeped across the grounds, and the hallways still cast long shadows. They sat on the steps huddled in their cloaks, fingers entwined, as they waited for their friends. Finally, Hermione and Draco showed up, and Ginny almost shot to her feet in anticipation.<p>

"What's up, Ginny?" Draco asked, curious why she would ask them to meet them several hours before the train was leaving. She clapped her hands together, as if she hadn't expected them to show, then looked between them all cheerfully.

"I thought we should do something fun today. I know Easter isn't until next week, but since we'll all be in different places... well," suddenly she looked shy, as if she doubted for the first time that maybe her friends wouldn't want to participate in what she had planned. "Well, I thought we could do an Easter Hunt. Haven't done one since I was little, and Mum just buys us chocolates now. Losers make us breakfast."

Blaise watched the other two and their mixed reactions – he had already known about the plan since Ginny had run it by him the night before. Draco looked like he might turn around and go back to bed, but Hermione gathered Ginny's hands up in her own, and exclaimed:

"Oh Ginny, that sounds wonderful!" Then, as if she was remembering something fondly, she explained: "I haven't done one of those for years. Draco? Why such the long face?"

"I'm going to be stuck with you, and you're going to suck," he explained bluntly, and she looked hurt for a minute. She was very good at Easter hunts,_ thank you very much_! Then, the thought occurred to her.

"But... won't you know where they all are?"

"Oh no," she said slowly, a sly grin creeping across her face. "I know where I put them... but I don't know where they are."

Hermione learned very quickly what Ginny meant. Apparently adults in the Wizarding World were a little more sadistic than their muggle counterparts. They didn't just _hide _the chocolate - they charmed them to run away from any pursuers. By the time the first hour passed, Hermione had cursed Ginny at least a dozen times.

"How many do we have?"

"The same as last time – eight." Hermione nodded. Four more and they would win. She tiptoed around the corner as carefully as she could, towards the egg that sat quietly on the stone floor. Closer. _Closer_. Almost there! She started reaching for the chocolate several steps early. _Circle it_, she reminded herself. _ If it runs it'll go straight to Draco_. Her partner put down the carton of eggs they had caught so far, and positioned himself in the middle of the hallway. He crouched and prepared to pounce the chocolate if it so much as moved - like usual. Hermione couldn't trick the chocolate to save her life, and though he acted put out by her obvious incompetence, he couldn't help but be amused by the way her face scrunched up in both fury and concentration.

"Oi! Hermione!" Ginny's voice rang out from a nearby corridor, and the egg, startled by the sudden noise, burst from it's spot. Harry would be amazing at this, Hermione thought grimly, as she tried to throw herself on top of it. It was a lot like trying to catch a snitch.

She fell hard, scraping her elbows painfully, but looked up in time to see Draco gracefully and expertly leap to catch it. He shrugged in her direction, then stowed it away with the others. She pounded her fist in frustration, then snarled towards the corridor the voice had come from.

"Ginny, I'm going to slaughter you!" At that, the laughing girl appeared around the corner, eyes dancing. It was nice to see that Hermione was still human – and equally pleasing that Ginny had found something that the girl was incapable of doing.

"Game's done anyway, we won," Ginny cheerfully explained, opening their carton and showing the other two that her and Blaise had collected a dozen eggs first. Draco sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Hermione, discontent at her loss, refused to give up.

"Fine. You win. But I'm still catching one!" She threw her hair into a ponytail, tore off her robe and tossed it to Draco. The castle was still chilly, but she was too worked up to care. She rolled up her sleeves and brushed off the knees of her slacks, which were already showing wear and tear from trying to pounce on her target repetitively. Chin up in the air, she strode towards the main hall. _There's at least four left_, she reasoned, _and one of them are mine_!

It sat in the center of the final corridor, as though waiting for their arrival. She narrowed her eyes, then did a few stretches. There was a moment of dead silence as anticipation built between the four of them. Ginny and Blaise looked at each other. Sure, she was new at this... _but no_. _She wouldn't, would she_? They looked to Draco, who just shrugged as if to say: _Look what you've done now_. He covered a smirk with his hand and turned his attention back to Hermione. _Oh yes, this would be interesting_.

"Herm-" Ginny started, taking pity on her friend and preparing to show her how to properly catch the egg. But it was too late, Hermione had chosen that moment to charge.

Blaise blinked. Ginny gave a cry of surprise, and then started chasing after her friend. They followed her to the stairs, where they stopped and watched from the second floor.

"I don't think I've seen anyone charge them outright since I was about ten years old," Blaise admitted, nearly throwing himself over the railing for a better view. Draco grinned - it was very rare for someone to catch the egg like this, and was often considered a childish tactic. But if anyone could do it, he suspected it would be Hermione. His girlfriend was no Seeker, but he had yet to see her come up completely empty handed in any endeavour she put her mind to.

Hermione rushed down the steps in twos, then jumped when only four remained. There was a collective 'ah!' as she almost landed on the egg – but at the last minute it skirted away from her and she went rolling. Together, the three of them watched in excitement as she darted around the main floor, chasing her target relentlessly.

They all flinched together and groaned when she slammed into a suit of armour, knocking it clean off it's pedestal. She only lay in the toppled mess for a minute before audibly growling and scrambling her way out. On her way, she scooped up the helmet and resumed her chase. Another student, unaware of Hermione's mission, stepped out into her line of sight. He only saw her long enough to know he was in the way, and with no time to move, he immediately assumed a defensive crouch. The egg was about ten paces to the other side of him, waiting. She used him as leverage, launching herself high off his back. With a roar of fury, she hurled the helmet at the unsuspecting chocolate.

There was a satisfying squelch as the helmet hit its target and bounced away. She came to a stumbling halt above it, towering over her chocolatey victim as it oozed out its cream center. Her immediate reaction was surprise, but then realizing that she had, in fact, defeated the chocolate cream egg, Hermione pumped her fist into the air and let out a crow of delight. _Victory_!

By now, Ginny was holding Blaise with one arm, and her side with another. All three of them were laughing, but howls of it escaped her as she pointed.

"Did you see that? Did you see! She _stepped_ on Colin!" Colin Creevey, the poor student who had gotten in the way, was still dazed and half crouched on the floor. Being a muggleborn himself, he had no idea what was going on. He hadn't seen the egg moving. More laughter escaped from her, tears streaming down her face. "And then she just hurls the helmet, and SPLAT! Just like that!" She slapped the railing as if it would help her breathe better. "I could live another hundred years and not see something that ridiculous ever again!"

Later, in the kitchens, Hermione would throw down her offered waffles to each of her friends, nose in the air.

"I may have lost," she would say, "but at least I got one!"

* * *

><p>After breakfast, when everyone was preparing to leave for the station, Hermione was summoned to the Headmaster's office. She shrugged to Draco, mirroring his look of confusion at why Dumbledore would want to see her so close to leaving.<p>

"Headmaster, you wished to see me?" Her tone was stiff as she took in her surroundings. She had assumed that Professor Snape would be present, but it appeared the other man hadn't been invited. Hermione was alone with the Headmaster, and panic bubbled up inside her. Would anyone hear her scream? she wondered, then realized that she was letting her imagination overwork itself.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Please sit down." She sat down hesitantly. "How are you doing?"

"Good. Everything is good, Headmaster." He studied her over the rims of his glasses. He had been watching her closely. By February, he was ready to step in, convinced that his experiment had gone terribly wrong, and that the worst possible outcome had come to pass. But, the girl had returned to normal, and though she still had minor hiccups, it seemed more or less a result of the dissolution of her friendship to Ron and Harry. She was still hanging out with not only Draco, but also Blaise now, which were both unfortunate choices that kept him on edge. However, she seemed to be spending a lot more time around Ginerva Weasley as well. Of this, he approved. Ginerva was a good, loyal girl. It was just what Hermione needed.

He had always banked heavily on nurture over nature, but during the last year he had been worried that in this case, he had been mistaken. Yes, he decided, he _had_ been wrong. Regardless of her upbringing and the semi-controlled environment at Hogwarts, the girl constantly bounced between her mother and Tom all year. In hindsight, it may have gone on long before then. Luckily, she had finally settled on Cassandra, and that wasn't bad in itself. No, Cassandra had been a nice, charming witch. Good. Kind of like her friend, Ginny. Only misled.

And it was his job to make sure that Hermione wasn't misled like her mother. It was up to him to sever a vicious cycle, and so he had called her here.

"Miss Granger, I wanted to talk to you about what happened over the Christmas holidays." The girl flinched back, and looked like she was trying to disappear into the chair. Albus winced. There was no way to address this topic casually. He pushed a bowl of lemon sweets towards her, but she eyed them warily and shook her head. She had a strong suspicion they were laced with something, and he sighed again. The girl was too clever for her own good. "I realize what I did was unforgivable, but please understand my concern. Who you see is of no matter to me, but I was caught unaware. The Malfoys may claim neutrality, but they certainly _do_ support Voldemort, child. Please understand. You could have very well been under some sort of spell."

"His parents choices have nothing to do with Draco," she gritted, knowing that in reality, they had _everything_ to do with it. She suspected that Albus knew the same. "I feel the need to point out that I had a lot less trouble at the Manor." Then it stuck her. She was planning to go back there for the spring hols. He was trying to stop her. Realization dawned on her and she beat him to it. "You want me to stay here."

"Yes, Miss Granger, I do." She thought about it carefully. She was done her task until the runes needed to be activated. She would prefer to spend the week away from the school. But she had aroused enough suspicion already...

"I understand." Albus waited for the but, but it never came. He frowned. She shrugged. "I will stay here, as you wish. I understand your concern, Headmaster." Albus almost danced in glee. _Yes_, he decided, _Ginerva Weasley had been a wonderful influence!_

She had been dismissed after that, and she left to tell Draco the change of plans, and to see him off. Though she pretended not to be, he could see she was upset and disappointed about staying behind. After he had left, she went to the Potions classroom to help Professor Snape with his infirmary potions. _Well, at least the Headmaster is delighted. It should keep him off my back for a while._

"Do you have any regrets?" she asked, while mincing beetle eyes absently, and he looked at her, waiting for further explanation. She waved her scalpel and shrugged. "You know, about being a spy. About spending time with these people and knowing that someday, somehow, their blood is going to be on your hands. That even though you're fighting for what you believe in, you'll be sacrificing your friends for those beliefs." He could see tears spring to her eyes, despite her attempts to keep them at bay. "Soon, my father will kill Harry, and probably Ron, and I will be partially responsible. I said I play war like I play chess, but when it comes down to it... I know what I believe in, but I just can't bring myself to cut them out of my life. And what if Ginny gets hurt? What if her family dies? She'd be devastated." There was a long pause, and Hermione thought that maybe he wasn't going to answer the ramblings of an eighteen year old girl. She chanced a look at him, and found him staring at her thoughtfully. She could detect the faintest traces of despair in his eyes as he put down his equipment and approached her.

"Lily Evans was my friend. I betrayed her, and because of that she's dead. I swore to protect her son, and yet I will betray him also when the time comes. I can't understand what you're going through entirely, but I am not oblivious. The right thing is often the hardest thing to do. If the Order didn't make rules that only they follow, if they didn't have so many flaws, if they weren't so soft in their convictions, it might be different. You are fighting for what you believe in, and for survival Hermione. There's no consolation prize in this war, the winner takes all." His words seemed to comfort her somewhat, and he awkwardly reached out and pulled her to him. "I have found it's best to make your decision and not over think it. If you do, you will be running in an eternal circle of what ifs."

"Thank you," came her muffled reply. She was smart, strong, and her decisions had hardened her. Unfortunately, at times like this, he was reminded that she was still young, probably _too_ young, to be carving people out of her life, and plotting their deaths. So much like Draco, so different. He sighed and patted her on the head awkwardly.

* * *

><p>The week went quietly, until the following Saturday morning, when Severus came to collect her. She dressed quickly, and grabbed her bag, but Severus motioned she wouldn't need it.<p>

"I'll be returning you shortly. I just thought you should come along. There's a... problem."

_Problem? What kind of problem_? Her heart skipped up into her throat as she followed her Professor out onto the grounds. Once off the grounds, they apparated to Malfoy Manor.

The Manor was in full war mode. Her eyes caught a movement nearby, and she realized that patrols had been stationed. There were two more Death Eaters just inside the doors, and people she didn't recognize busying themselves with this and that around them. Draco was helping his Dad with something, and when he caught her eye, he guiltily looked away. She frowned.

Severus led her to the cellar. This was where they kept prisoners, and she groaned, realizing what was going on. Someone in the Order must have been caught. Maybe it was Ginny – but she could easily get her friend released, if that was the case. _Unless Ginny had betrayed them..._ Fear washed over her, but she dispelled it. No, her friend would never do such a thing, even if she chose the Order in the end.

When they reached the bottom step, and she recognized who the prisoner was, her blood ran cold. _Not him_, she pleaded silently. _Anyone but him_. She came to the grim realization that no matter how much she wished it wasn't so, it wouldn't change the fact that Remus Lupin was now a prisoner of war.

"He won't talk," Severus told her quietly. "Tom thinks you might be able to do something. Take another approach. Before..."

_Before they took the normal approach_, she silently finished for him. She felt a swelling in heart at the fact that her father knew how much Remus meant to her, and was willing to give her a go before he was handed over to more... unreasonable hands. Like Bellatrix. The older woman had stood at the entrance with a wolfish grin fixed on her face. Surely she couldn't wait to have her niece's husband handed over to her. Hermione scowled at the thought. They might be on the same side but it seemed to be decided – they would not be liking each other any time soon.

She waited until she heard the door shut and the voices fade, and then she approached the bars. When Remus saw her, he started in shock, but then seemed to relax a little. _She's on the other side_, he noted. _She isn't a prisoner._ _Thank Merlin_. He pushed himself off the floor and approached her. She reached forward and gripped his hands, and despite her betrayal, he didn't pull away. He even squeezed them reassuringly. _Don't worry about me_, it said. Finally, she fought back a sniffle and cut to the point:

"Remus, please. Just surrender what they want to know?"

"And then what?" If there was only one person from the Order that she wanted to save, he stood before her now. Of course it was also the only person she couldn't save. No matter how much she tried, she already knew there would be no convincing him. They shared a look of mirrored disappointment . "I never had the intention to survive this war. Lily, James, Sirius – they're all gone, and I will die for the same cause they did."

"Tonks," Hermione whispered, "What about her? She'll be devastated." She almost felt outrage at his casual shrug, but then caught a fleeting look of sorrow. She tried again. "You'll die for _nothing_, Remus. Your death will change nothing. We'll catch others, and sooner or later someone will break to save themselves. So _please_..."

"Is that what happened to you, Hermione?" She felt tears pinprick at her eyes and she tried to back away, but he refused to let go of her. "What made you go to them? Was it Draco? Severus?"

"It was the Order." Remus' eyebrows furrowed down, disbelievingly. "I belong in this world, and I choose to fight to be able to help form it into what it should be. I left because the Order would not offer me that. The Ministry would not offer me that. The only person who would offer a mudblood," both winced, "a place, was surprisingly, Tom Riddle. He gave me a chance to prove myself, even when that was all I was to him. He listens to my ideas. And everyone here believes in what we're doing, just like the Order."

"You care for them. Not just Draco, or Professor Snape, but everyone."

"No," she muttered hesitantly, Bellatrix Lestrange freshly in her mind. "But I love the Malfoys, _all_ the Malfoys, and yes, I care for Professor Snape too. And I... I'm _fond_ of Tom." She shrugged wistfully at his look of disbelief. How could anyone care for that man? "I care for people in the Order too, which proves to be a predicament."

"Tom accepts your wavering loyalty?" She hesitated.

"If the situation was different, perhaps he wouldn't. But he knows that my loyalty to the cause has never faltered. I believe in what we're doing, and in the end, I will do what needs to be done. I may not like it sometimes, and it doesn't change who I care about, but these people are my family now. And Tom," she hesitated again. "Tom is my _father_, Remus, did you know that? Or did Dumbledore forget to tell you that I was his little project? Raise Riddle's kiddo as a muggleborn and set them against each other. Interesting concept, is it not?" Remus stared at her in shocked confusion, but already the web was disappearing around her, and the evidence was sinking in. Still, he tried:

"That can't be..."

"What? That I'm his daughter, or that I still exist?" Knowing that the first question was irrefutable, especially by his growing look of horror, she grimaced. "Albus has always had his own agenda, you of all people should know that." Remus let go of her hands then, and sank to the floor. He had nothing to say, what _could_ he say? Albus had deliberately lied to him. She was being taken care of, he had said. She would _never_ enter the Wizarding World, he had promised! But no... she had been thrown in the middle of all this in the end. He suddenly remembered Albus' hesitation that day and gripped the bars angrily. _Damn it! He should have known!_

Did Alastor know, then? He was the only other one who had seen her as a child and known her for who she was. Was the older Auror feigning ignorance, or had Albus done something to make him forget? The man would have been keen to cause an accident. He didn't like loose ends.

Remus wished he would have the chance to find out.

"You may as well send Bellatrix in here." He could see her tense up at his dismissal. She backed away slowly, a lump forming in her throat. He called her name softly halfway up the stairs, and she ducked back to look at him. "Hermione, wait." She felt her heart leap in joy before it sank back into her stomach, which was flopping around like a fish out of water. "It was nice seeing you again. And thanks for trying, before, well... you know."

She turned then, not wanting him to see her cry. But Remus always knew when she was crying, and she had the sinking feeling that it wouldn't change now. She rushed the door and disappeared from prying eyes for the rest of the evening.

Somehow, Remus escaped that same night.

Hermione came racing out of her room barefoot and pyjama clad at the commotion. She hadn't been asleep – in fact, she had been staring at the ceiling for hours trying to figure out a way to save her beloved Professor without betraying her father in the process. Now, she didn't have to think about it anymore. Instead, she had to find him.

Bellatrix could only shrug, and Hermione thought that the woman had possibly let him go, knowing he would have to escape on foot. Also, if the wrong person found him, his life was forfeit. She searched for him frantically. Where the hell could he be? It _had_ to be her to find him, she mentally chanted over and over.

She rushed to nearest window and threw it open. Nothing. She could see nothing. But then lightning arced through the sky and she had a good three seconds to scan the grounds. He wasn't in the maze. He wasn't in the open field. _There_! A movement, even if it was faint. It could be no one else.

Of course it had to be one of the worst storms tonight. Bellowing thunder had been sending tremors through the Manor all night. With the clouds blocking out the moon, and the rain beating down relentlessly, it was almost impossible to see anything. If the manor had been fuelled by electricity and not magic, she was sure the power would have gone out a long time ago.

She was ecstatic to be the one to finally find him, but was unhappy at the location.

The roof wasn't normally dangerous, but in this kind of weather anything could happen. Where he was going was beyond her. But, actually knowing the mansion fairly well by now, she was able to sprint up a floor and a few rooms over and swing herself outside of the frame. She felt the torrential downpour hit her and almost buckled under the initial pressure. It wasn't painful, but it had been stronger than expected. And now she was out here on a slippery roof, chasing someone who didn't want to be caught, with maybe a few seconds every half minute to see. She fumbled blindly towards the spot she had seen him last.

She yelped in triumph as her hands grabbed his shirt blindly and pulled him towards her. He struggled, trying to throw her off, but lightning struck again, showing him it was just her. He was less adamant about sending her off the roof, then. Instead, he shoved her away as gently as he could away from the edge, and she saw him just enough to know that he had slipped in the process.

He tumbled down the roof, and she scrambled after him without a second thought. Without her wand she could cast nothing useful. The storm was so strong that she could feel the house itself rock under the wind and rain. It was horrifying: one wrong move and she would follow him off the roof, head first.

She tried to grip onto whatever she could, and managed to grab his hand just in time. She knew the eavestrough was not the best thing to be throwing her weight on, but thank goodness it was stronger than the muggle version, or they would both be dead by now. She felt herself loosing ground, and screamed over the storm, refusing to let him go.

"Remus! Climb up!"

"And then what?" She barely caught his voice, not that it mattered, she had no answer for him. _And then we take you back in to be interrogated more_. She knew this, and he knew this. The sad realization that this is truly what he chose, even when faced with his death, was heartbreaking. The storm raged around them still, and it was while they were staring at one another she realized Remus was letting his hand slip out of her grasp. He was telling her to let go, but it was too soft to make over the storm. Finally, he twisted his arm just right and slipped out of her grasp. With a broken smile, he disappeared out of sight and down below.

She screamed after him and fought the arms that caught her before she could go sailing after him. She struggled as she was pulled back towards the window. Halfway back, she gave up, realizing that it was Draco pulling her. Hermione knew she couldn't stay out here anyway, and just let herself sink to the floor when pulled inside. She felt numb. Dead.

"What happened?" Snape asked, approaching the two of them at a run, the senior Malfoys close behind him with a few others. "Where's Lupin?"

"Gone. I tried to pull him up, but he let go..." Draco nodded in confirmation to Severus, who looked immediately wistful, and a wave from him dismissed the others. Lucius barked out orders to go and collect the body. Draco sat next to her on the floor and wrapped his arms around her, saying nothing but letting her sob against his shoulder.

Severus had nothing he could say. He knew what she was feeling – she may not have killed him, but she felt responsible nonetheless. He still woke himself up some nights, screaming Lily's name in vain. It was a pain she would probably feel for the rest of her life.

Oh course, Hermione had loved Remus differently, that much was true, but loved him nonetheless. In return, he had cared enough to help her, to support her in making the right decision. It was a decision that would go against everything he believed in, but that had always been Remus. He had a knack for believing one thing, but accepting and understanding the bigger picture as a whole.

He left the two alone, and walked until he was out of sight. He growled fiercely and slammed his fist into the wall. It would be sore tomorrow, but he didn't care. The realization that he hadn't cut everyone out was astounding. The realization that Remus had been his friend too, shook him to the core.

_You idiot wolf_, he despaired, sinking down into the nearest couch and dropping his head in his hands.

* * *

><p>She had told Draco that she needed time to herself, and was wandering down to her room to clean up when Bellatrix Lestrange passed her. The woman grinned at her provocatively, and whatever feelings of regret Hermione harboured changed to anger. It may have been childish, but the smug look on the other woman's face caused Hermione to lash out. She shoved the other woman towards the wall as hard as she could.<p>

"You let him go!" She accused. Bellatrix, regaining her balance and almost dancing away, just cackled.

"He was just an ickle wolfie," Bella teased. "An enemy – or maybe you're having second thoughts again? Just like Sev, can't ever seem to pick a side." Hermione threw herself at the woman, who gave a squeak of surprise when she didn't manage to dodge the swinging arm. Hermione's fist knocked her firmly against her jaw – the strength behind it amplified with the backhanded swing of it.

"_You_ _bitch_," Hermione snarled and tried to pounce again. Bella, holding her jaw as she scuttled away, was surely thinking something similar by the way her eyes glittered dangerously. Instead of reciprocating her opinion vocally, she whipped her wand in a sharp arc. Thankfully, she was still a bit dazed, so the spell only glanced off Hermione's thigh. Still, it forced her to cry out and stagger back in pain. Bellatrix gave a half cry of triumph, and Hermione saw red – and not just the kind pouring down her leg.

_How dare she_? Hermione thought angrily, beyond reason now. _I may not have my wand, but I'm _better_ than her_, she decided. _Stronger. _

She swept the anger away, concentrated it like her father had taught her. Still though, she felt a deep rooted want for revenge. She may have appeared calm, but she was no more reasonable.

Her flames came to life and she bowled them towards her enemy. They licked across the floor and just barely missed the target. _Loop it around_, she thought, and she did. Bellatrix, no longer laughing, tried to escape one way but was blocked. Turning around she realized the column had closed in on her. The circle was getting smaller, and she waved her wand to dispel the flame. _There! An opening_! She dashed towards it, but Hermione closed the gap before she could escape. Hermione revelled at her control – something she had always lacked. She felt powerful! Bellatrix _deserved_ what was coming to her!

She would drink in the look of terror on Bellatrix' face for a few more seconds, and then she would close the column on her. All her indiscretions over the years would be paid back in full. Her life was forfeit. It wasn't murder if no one missed the person, was it?

"Not so fun when you're about the one to die, is it?" Bellatrix stared at her defiantly, then curled her lip. She cast a protective shield over herself, but both of them knew it wouldn't hold. They both excelled in aggressive magic – and Hermione was the aggressor. She had the upper hand.

Someone's hand landed on her shoulder softly, and in surprise, her flames almost sputtered out. She frowned, craning her neck to see who had stopped her.

"Please, Hermione," Narcissa pleaded quietly. "I understand you're angry, but she's still my sister." Hermione glared back at where Bellatrix stood, watching the exchange curiously.

Hermione suddenly felt torn. Her body screamed for revenge against the person who had let Remus out to die, but the rational part of her mind was struggling to calm down and listen to Draco's mother. Even if she was insane and cruel, it didn't change the fact that Bellatrix _was_ Narcissa's kin. Wasn't one death enough for the night? The thought that she had intended to murder Lestrange sent her reeling. Since when had she so casually justified murder?

Adrenaline had kept her going this long, but now it failed along with her resolve. Her flames disappeared, and she wavered lightly.

A grin split Bellatrix's face. A chance! She would kill this little twerp right now and finally have the favour of her Lord back!

Two things happened then in very quick succession. Narcissa caught Hermione, who's legs had finally given out, and with her free hand, she whipped out her wand disarmed her sister.

"Cissy..." Narcissa narrowed her eyes at her sister. Just because she wanted her spared, didn't mean she was entirely happy with her at the moment. Bellatrix reeled back as if Narcissa had slapped her.

"Come dear," she said to Hermione, who was feeling quite dizzy by now. Thankfully, the younger girl didn't protest and allowed herself to be assisted to the nearest guest room. She was lowered onto the tile floor of the washroom – which was delightfully cool to the touch. Narcissa examined her leg. Since she had been in shorts, there was no sticky cloth to peel back from the wound.

Narcissa approached the most important thing first, and gently touched the edges of the gash, which caused a sharp hiss to come from Hermione. She numbed it, then closed it carefully and banished the blood. Calling a house elf to her side, Narcissa then gently applied a mixture of chilled dittany, to both the wound and the other scrapes and bruises Hermione had gotten while on the roof.

"Is that a different ring?" Hermione murmured, barely conscious. Narcissa looked surprised, then smiled.

"Yes. It's tradition to receive a new ring after a certain amount of time. I'm surprised you noticed."

"It was very pretty ring." Then as an afterthought, she offered: "but that one is too." She drifted off then, vaguely hearing the other woman agree that it was. Narcissa's cool fingers brushed the hair away from the girl's forehead, and checked her for fever, but there was none. Still, the girl was just exhausted and needed rest.

After Narcissa had but her to bed and left the room, she caught a glimpse of her sister lurking nearby.

"Cissy..." Before anymore could be said, Narcissa strode briskly towards her and grabbed her sister's robes.

"How dishonourable of you to try to attack her after she spared your life!" She saw her sister's mouth open to protest, but Narcissa cut her off. "You fully intended to take her head off right from get go. Since you clearly missed, I'll let it slide! But we grew up together. We fought together. I know _damn well_ when you're about to cast an Avada, Bella, and I swear if you even so much as lay a finger on her after I leave..." she let the threat hang between them dangerously.

"She was going to kill me, Cissy! She's dangerous!" Narcissa stared at her sister in disbelief as realization hit her.

"Control your jealousy, or it will be controlled for you!" She let go, leaving Bella to look both confused and enraged. _Was she the only one that the little bitch didn't have wrapped around her finger?_

Bella decided to let the matter drop, then, and shrugged nonchalantly. She turned on her heel and left in apparent defeat. Though innocent to anyone else, Narcissa could read the body language that came off her in waves. After all, like she said, they had grown up together. She knew exactly Bella's departure meant when it was void of any further protest.

"Binty," and the house elf appeared next to her. "Go and get Severus, please." The elf nodded and popped out of existence, and Narcissa reentered the girl's room and sat by her bedside. Finally, there was a light knock on the door before Severus let himself in.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Please," she asked quietly, slipping her wand back into her sleeve. "Take her back to Hogwarts immediately."

There had been an incident, Severus realized, as he warily peeled back the sheets and saw the carefully wrapped leg peeking out from under her shorts. It would explain why Narcissa had her wand drawn when he came in. She was expecting a fight.

Without further question, he prepared to pick her up, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Removing her tonight is in her best interest - make sure she knows that when she wakes?"

He nodded, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily between them. He didn't know what happened, but he could piece it together well enough. He knew that Narcissa would not send the girl away without a reason.

Even though most of the Death Eaters accepted her, there were still quite a few who would jump at the chance to remove her from her seat of power. Fenrir, Dolohov. Crabbe and Goyle seniors, who had been quite upset over their demotion. If Narcissa was worried, he assumed that Bellatrix had joined the small, but dangerous group.

Whether it was the Malfoys, Severus, or Tom himself, they had worked hard to protect her until she was ready. None of them got this far by being ignorant. Yet, he had thought she'd be safe there. What had made Bella do it?

_Retaliation_.

It was only one thing that the woman could _possibly_ think she could get away with. Hermione must have tried to kill her, must have lashed out first, and with that memory fresh in her mind, the older woman must have thought her actions were justified. That was usually the case, but general rules didn't apply to Hermione. He expected the middle ranks to make the mistake, but Bella? She was part of the Inner Circle, and should know that harming Tom's heir would result in an indisputable death sentence - no matter the reason.

Even though Bellatrix was a deranged lunatic, and really couldn't be trusted around Hermione to begin with, he thought her loyalty at least would keep her in line. And it had, up until now. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Would Tom catch wind of this? He thought that surely the Circle could be trusted, but with a breach like this... could it really?

Finally, he hoisted the girl into his arms and apparated back to Hogwarts. He took the trip to dwell on a great many things, until finally he reached her common room and placed her in her bed. She must have been very tired, or Narcissa had given her a strong sedative, because she showed no signs of waking.

But he did hear a name muttered out. When she was like this, she was usually calling for Draco or himself. Once it had been for her mother, Cassandra. He leaned closer, trying to hear what she was saying.

"Noooo!" she wailed unexpectedly, sending him jumping back a few paces. He saw wetness clinging to her eyelashes, and a look of distress came to her face. He reached into his robes and pulled out a vial of Dreamless Sleep. Before he could administer it, he heard the name again. Louder, clearer. "Remus," she groaned out, as if in agony. She probably was, he realized. His death had hit her especially hard. He tilted her head back and poured the liquid down her throat. Her thrashing ceased immediately, and he took a seat in the chair nearby. He would just stay for a little while, he decided. Long enough to make sure the potion had done its job.

As he watched the traces of despair melt from her face, Severus wondered (and not for the first time tonight) if it had been a terrible mistake to take her there.

* * *

><p>AN: I apologize for leaving you all such a depressing chapter last week, which originally was supposed to be back by this days after. Because less depressing chapters follow depressing chapters quite well, don't you guys think so?

As I said, I wanted this chapter out much sooner, but by the end of last week, I knew it wasn't going to happen. I have to admit I'm very surprised it did come out by today. With the school year looming on us and me being in the process of moving, I just haven't had the time to put anything extra in. (Speaking of which, I was supposed to sit in the government building for a few hours today just to change my address, and instead opted to get the release out. _Oops! Bahaha!)_

Unfortunately we're approaching the end (and by end, I mean we have about three more chapters to go, and one of them is a shorter epilogue). You all can probably imagine what the next two chapters will probably start to involve, and with that, we will be seeing a bit more conflict and death in them than we're used to. Just to reassure you all before there's a riot: I am kind of a softie when it comes to my heros, so keep that in mind before you reel in horror, thinking I'm going to take a literary axe to everyone's neck!

Anyway, as always: thank you everyone for the reviews, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	10. The Start of an End

**CHAPTER 10**  
>The Start of an End<p>

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><p>The trio were still filling the charms in their spare time, but since Hermione was now free, they cut back a little so they could all have leisure time together. Though many of their activities were very public and involved others, no one could argue that the four of them had formed some sort of tightly knit quad. Where you saw one, the other three weren't far from hand. In rugby they always seemed within twenty paces from one another. In Quidditch, whoever wasn't playing would be seated together, often in Slytherin or Ravenclaw. In the library, their heads would huddle together amiably as they studied for their final exams.<p>

At meals, they obviously couldn't sit together, but each of them sat with their house partner without fail. Blaise or Draco had often shuffled seats, but now they did so together. And no matter how much Ron and Harry complained and tried to drag Ginny away, the girl refused to let herself be bullied away from Hermione's side again.

Harry seemed to be disappointed that Ginny wouldn't be replacing Hermione in the Golden Trio, but said very little on the matter. Ron, on the other hand, decided to take a different approach. More than once he made some snide comment on how their mum wouldn't approve of Ginny's new boyfriend.

"Good thing _I'm _dating him then, and not Mum!" Ginny would retort loudly, causing those in earshot to snicker. Every time, without fail, Ron would flush in embarrassment. Though she wasn't very comfortable with causing family discord, Hermione couldn't help but be a little smug about the whole thing. After all, she had won Ginny.

The closer the Quidditch finals came, the more Hermione let herself think that maybe they'd make it to summer. Finals always marked the start of the last stretch – the time where everyone would wrap up their extracurricular activities and study in earnest.

Hermione didn't realize the problem until she reached the pitch that day. Quidditch had never really been her sport, but she had enjoyed the company, along with making snarky remarks about the other players. As she looked around uncertainly, wondering where to sit, it fully sank in. She had never come to a match that had Gryffindor and Slytherin matched against each other - not since she broke off from Harry and Ron, anyway. She would be sitting alone today.

"Hermione!" came a voice, and she twisted around to see Pansy waving to her. Glad to have a subtle invite, she clambered up the stairs after the girl. Together they pushed their way to the front row.

"So who are you cheering for?" Pansy asked, causing everyone around them to murmur and echo the question. It was a good question, and she wasn't sure how to answer. Did she root for Draco and Blaise, or did she root for Ginny and her house?

"I'm not sure," she finally answered, and as if she had suspected that response, Pansy opened her hand to show a polished galleon.

"Well, how 'bout you root for Gryffindor, and I'll root for Slytherin. Whoever wins makes a little extra money on the side." Hermione smirked. She had never been much of a gambler, but rummaging around in her own robes she found that she had enough spare change to wager with.

"Deal."

Maybe it was the bet, or maybe it was an inbred sense of rivalry. Hermione didn't think she would be so passionate about the game. What was even better today was that Gryffindor had foregone their usual honorary approach and was just as bad as Slytherin. Both teams had decided it just as important to get as many uncalled fouls in as it was to win.

"Crush him, Ginny!" She heard herself scream into the crowd. As if Ginny had heard her, the redhead smashed the Quaffle against Vaisey, who in turn went spinning off towards the stands and hit them with a sickening thump. Hermione whooped in delight, which turned to a yelp of pain when Pansy accidentally knocked her on the back of the head with something hard.

Blaise didn't hesitate to retaliate against the offending Gryffindor. He slammed into her deliberately and sent them both cartwheeling. Hooch should have called a foul for deliberate blatching, but was too busy trying to decide if both groups of Beaters were, in fact, aiming for the other players and not just the opposing spectators.

Ginny had fumbled the Quaffle, and it sped towards the ground below. Blaise, always close by, dove for it with Ginny not far behind. Triumphantly, he snatched it first and went to pull up, but Ginny's boot came down hard into the small of his back. She wrestled the ball back and darted away, leaving a dazed Blaise just barely hanging on.

After Ginny had scored, the younger girl sailed close enough to give Hermione's outstretched hand a quick slap. She hadn't expected Hermione to be rooting for Gryffindor, especially in the Slytherin stands, but the extra fan was more than welcome. The move was especially brave on Ginny's part, considering there were at least a dozen Slytherins who would like to do nothing more than pull her clean off her broom as she flew on by.

The game went on with so many fouls that Madam Hooch had to finally call a time out to reprimand everyone as a whole. She demanded that Blaise and Ginny shake hands, since they were the worst of the lot. Everyone laughed at this, especially since it was obvious that the two of them were thoroughly enjoying themselves. There was nothing more fun than beating the snot out of your sweetheart, apparently.

As the game started up again, a flash of gold caught her eye and she squinted in an attempt to see it better. Draco, who had been watching her, followed her line of sight when she showed interest. He kicked his broom forward and... there! It was half hidden behind one of the Gryffindor banners. No wonder he hadn't seen it.

She called out for Harry, who immediately caught on. Realizing that they both had seen it, he also set off in a blur towards the object of victory. There was a roar in the crowd as Harry swerved away from Draco's incoming elbow.

"Ginny," Hermione shouted. "Stop gawking and score more points! Go go go!" The Chasers were virtually done if they wanted to be. The snitch would decide the outcome, and there wasn't enough time left to change that. The score was tied at thirty to thirty, which must be an all time low for any match after two hours of hard playing. The Keepers were probably good enough, but it had been the Chasers today who had rarely let the ball get within range of their scoring hoops. Regardless, Ginny grinned in her direction and motioned for her Chasers to keep scoring. They had to keep the Slytherin Chasers preoccupied, or else they would purposely get in Harry's way.

When Blaise realized Draco was a little behind Harry, he purposely caused a scene with the others so that Hooch's attention would swerve back to him. She started yelling for him to be more sportsmanlike, and more than once Hermione heard: 'Zabini, you best tuck in those elbows, or I'll foul you for cobbing!" Ginny tried to back her team away from him, but it was too late. Draco had reached out and grabbed Harry's broom, giving it a good yank backward. Hooch had seen nothing.

Harry had always been competitive himself. On feeling the jerk, he let himself tumble backward and pushed Draco clean off. The boy had an expression of shock as he grabbed at thin air and began to fall towards to pitch. Just in time he was able to grab onto Harry's spinning Firebolt and slow his descent. He pulled himself up and regained his balance. Harry had successfully stolen his broom and was back in the lead.

As much as Draco would loathe to admit it, Harry's broom was much faster than his own. He easily caught up with the boy and shoved him again. Harry elbowed him in the throat, but Draco didn't give him any leeway. He was intent on driving Harry into the stands.

A bludger tore them apart, and Draco swore as he was forced to give Harry a chance to pull up at the last second. They honed in on the snitch again, from different directions.

Ginny, willing to do anything to win, looped around and threw herself into Draco's path. You could see the look of horror in his eyes as he realized he had no time to stop, and the two of them smashed into each other and went flying through the air – limbs tangled. Blaise was after them in a second, Dean Thomas close behind. They each caught their team member and lowered them to the pitch, where Pomphrey was already rushing out to administer on the spot treatment. Hermione could hear the two of them cursing from where she was, but it was drowned out by the roar in the Gryffindor stands. Harry had caught the snitch and the game was now over.

With mock disgust, Pansy pressed the gold into Hermione's hand with a scowl. She grinned and pushed her way through the crowd and hustled down the stairs and into the pitch, which was being flooded by the Gryffindors. Ginny came running straight for her and she wrapped her arms around the redhead, laughing, and spun her around.

"You were brilliant!" Hermione exclaimed, squeezing her friend extra hard when she complained about being sore. She saw Draco scowling off in the distance, hanging off Blaise, but she only managed a lopsided grin in his direction. The rest of the Gryffindors all shot her nervous smiles – they hadn't expected her to be so fiercely involved in cheering for them. Harry grinned, and Ron just looked surprised. When Ginny went back to her adoring fans, Hermione made her way over to the Slytherin team, who all looked highly disappointed with the outcome.

"You okay?" She asked, tapping Draco on the shoulder.

"Traitor," he muttered half-heartedly. She held up her hands.

"Loyalty can be bought – mine for a little less than average!" She showed him the galleon. "Pansy wanted to bet, and I was her most suitable victim. Must say - it worked out quite well for me." Draco laughed at the sour look Pansy was still wearing. Well, if his girlfriend had been bought, there wasn't much he could do about it, was there?

* * *

><p>When the frantic pounding was finally heard, the common room fell silent. Harry, closest to the door, went to answer it. By his blank expression when he came back a few seconds later, Ginny had a good idea who it was.<p>

"Ginny, it's for you."

"Oh, okay, thanks," she said meekly, and jumped down off the table she had been using as a base to throw candy from. As soon as she disappeared, the noise started up again, and it became so loud that she had to step out and close the portrait behind her.

"Hermione, is she here?" Draco looked panicked, and Ginny frowned.

"No, she left a while ago. Why? What's up?" Blaise shifted foot to foot, looking a little nervous himself. He didn't want to voice his worry, not when her brother was involved. Draco, having no regard for Ron, grabbed her by the shoulders and stared at her.

"Weasel's still in there, isn't he?" Ginny bit her lip and motioned for the boys to wait. Searching the room, she felt her stomach sink, but decided to verify Ron's absence with Harry. Just in case.

"Oi, Harry, have you seen my brother?" Harry looked a bit skittish for a second and she picked up on his guilt right away. "Where is he?" Realizing that Ginny meant business, Harry tittered and shrugged apologetically.

"He went to talk to Hermione." She turned on her heel, but Harry caught her arm. "Ginny, wait. It's not what you think – Ron's completely head over heels for her. He's going to apologize. He wants to patch things up – that's all."

"_That's_ the problem, Harry," she spat. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe Hermione doesn't _want_ to patch things up anymore? That Draco isn't just some ploy to make Ron jealous?" At his stunned look, she had her answer, and in disgust she ripped her arm away. They had to find Hermione, and fast.

Hermione had left half an hour prior and was now doing her rounds on the third floor. This night had been one of the best of the year, and though Draco and Blaise were certainly moping about their loss, she was happy.

"Oh hey, Hermione. Wait up!" came the voice from behind her. She turned and saw Ron briskly approaching her, and all her warning bells went off. She forced them away as he slowed, his usual malice gone for the time. "Do you think we can talk?" Ron gestured to an empty classroom nearby, and Hermione couldn't stop herself from frowning. The tone of his voice made it sound like he wanted to reconcile. Sure, she wanted him stop trying to make her life miserable, but anything more? She'd pass.

"Oh, why not?" She said anyway, and forced a smile onto her face. Entering the room, she took a seat and suddenly felt very awkward.

"So, are you ready for your NEWTs?"

"I've been ready since first year, Ronald." The answer itself, along with the flat tone of her voice, threw him off – it wasn't what he had expected. Normally she would have gone off on a tangent about how she was so far behind, and how terrified she was that she'd fail. He used to tune her out or change the subject, but since he was trying to make amends, he had planned to listen to her and comfort her the best he could. What was he supposed to say?

They sat in strained silence for several dragging minutes until he became frustrated and cut right to the heart of things.

"I don't understand," he finally complained. "What changed?"

"I think we all just grew up," she offered honestly. "We like different things and different people now. We take different classes, have different ideas, and finally, we partake in different activities."

"You're talking about those silly little rugby matches, aren't you?"

"Yes – but they're not silly. Just like Quidditch isn't silly to you." He scoffed at this – as if anyone other than Hermione could ever not like Quidditch! "If you took two minutes to check them out, you'd notice we have more people playing each weekend than all four Quidditch teams combined." She realized that pointing it out would only annoy him, so before he could let that sink in, she quickly offered, "And you know I also spend a lot of time studying."

"Fine," he waved his hand dismissively. "So, during hols, why didn't you let the Headmaster read your mind? We've all been wondering – you caused quite the mess."

"Would you be happy if someone just tried to force their way in?"

"But it wasn't just anyone, Hermione. It was Dumbledore, and he-"

"Don't you dare say he has the right! No one has the right to push their way into someone else's mind. It's highly illegal, and yes, there were things I didn't want him to see. He physically hurt me, Ron – you have no idea." It was obvious by the look on Ron's face that he believed that if Hermione was hurt, she had brought it on herself. Ron had never been one to put himself in other people's shoes, and she had half a mind to show him first hand how much damage a forced Legimens could cause. _No. Albus' meddling was all over this_, she fumed, _and it's not really his fault_. She stopped herself from doing something reckless.

She still had to resist fiercely the urge to at least punch him. Instead gritted her teeth and made to leave. He reached out and grabbed her arm, and a series of events took place then. She told him to let go, he told her he wouldn't. They spat mild obscenities at each other in rapid succession. They brought up issues, old and new, big and small, that had never really been resolved. She finally said that didn't have to answer to him; he said that he deserved at least a little respect – something she had never given him. Hermione laughed mockingly at that one. "Oh yes," she had said, "_let's_ discuss who respects who here. That will be quite the short conversation!". Knowing that was a losing trail, he tried to press the topic of Dumbledore further, and when she rebutted all of those accusations too, he finally finished with: "Well, it's hardly his fault that you were being a whore."

Having had enough, she lashed out and slapped him firmly across the cheek. Probably not the wisest course of action when the conversation was already out of hand. Yet, Ronald's demented mind must have misconstrued the meaning, because he pulled her to him and forced his mouth to hers. Maybe he was trying to apologize, or maybe he really had just lost his mind. She forced her head away in disgust and refused to look at him. He studied her expression, and uncontrolled fury came over him.

"What does that traitorous git have that I don't?" He wrestled with her and even though she struggled, he was much stronger than she expected. The side of the desk dug painfully into her hip, his hands would surely leave bruises. After a few more moments of shoving and pushing, she was surprised to to find the floor coming towards her rapidly. Hermione tried her best to cushion her fall, but still her head cracked painfully against the tile. She was still seeing stars when Ron flipped her over and began muttering things at her. He tried to justify his fumbling fingers that tore open her robe. How dare she betray him? No one else could appreciate her like he did. they were supposed to be together – the Headmaster even thought so.

The stench of the Headmaster's meddling was all over this, but what had she expected? Tom was preparing to move, and it was no secret. Albus would naturally be reigning in his players as well. He had sent Ron to collect her loyalty. Even knowing she was in danger, she felt the urge to laugh at him bubble up. _Imbeciles_.

His rambling seemed to become very far away, and everything in the world was detached. She saw her wand through blurry vision, and knew it to be several feet away. It seemed much further. Hermione was reminded of the despair she felt in the Ark. _You know_, she thought miserably, _The Inferi were much more gentle_.

This time around, she was too out of it to do anything to save herself. Her head throbbed – she didn't think she could cast wandless if her life depended on it right now. Ronald continued to clumsily undress her, and she willed him to just rip her pants and be done with it. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be - somewhere deep in Ronald's mind he truly believed that she wanted this, that she would enjoy it. Maybe if he took his time she would realize all this and... she tried to stop rationalizing Ron's thoughts. Maybe if she puked on him he would finally get the hint.

He pulled her shirt away, and before he could continue, he froze. His eyes were focused on her shoulder.

"Impossible," he whispered in horror, throwing himself back onto the balls of his feet. She sucked in a few breaths of thankful air. As clarity finally pushed away the protective haze she had burrowed herself in, she was almost thankful he had seen her mark. Then, his rage was back. "How long? How long have you been a sodding traitor?" He leaned over her again and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her as if the answer might just tumble out. She couldn't help but feel like a piece of steak that needed a good tenderizing. Her arm twisted out of his gasp and she lobbed her fist against the side of his head. Clumsy, but it seemed to have worked. Ron rolled away and they both went for their wands.

Ginny, on hearing the ruckus, came clambering to her rescue. It was unfortunately that Hermione didn't need rescuing anymore. Ginny came to a skidding halt when she almost stepped on her brother, and her eyes went wide as saucers as she looked down on him. She didn't need to check the body to know it wasn't going to move.

"Holy shit," Ginny finally cried, dancing back a few more steps to secure herself against the wall. Her face drained of colour and she was off again - pacing in circles of panic and occasionally looking back at her brother as if he might not really be there, as if this was all just a bad dream. Hermione briskly pulled her shirt shut and schooled her features into a blank stare. _What a mess_. Ginny didn't miss the movement, and added Hermione into her ongoing rotation. Slowly she pieced together what must have happened, but still, neither one said anything further. Hermione folded into her knees, trying to disappear. Her head still throbbed, and adrenaline was still coursing through her. Since there was nothing to do, it made her feel sick.

He had really planned to rape her. Hermione felt nothing but disgust, but he had still been her friend once. Also, she had never taken a life. Sure, she had intentionally hurt people, and fought with the intent to kill, but something had always stopped her – her father's ability, Narcissa's plea...

She realized that deep down, she had never expected to take those final steps. Now she had. And now she also knew why Avada was forbidden. Sure, it was a killing spell, but there were plenty of spells that could maim and kill another person. Avada Kedavra literally tore a piece of your soul when you cast it. Phantom pain laced through her and she tried to decide where her soul was. In her heart? Her lungs? Her belly felt kind of flippy floppy, maybe it was in the there. Finally, she rolled to the side and threw up. Ginny's attention shot fully to her and she raced towards her friend.

"Oh hell, Hermione! What happened?" She gripped her friend tightly, eyes searching her face for something – anything, so explain what had happened. Hermione wouldn't kill Ron for no reason, right? Right. But he was still her brother. Oh Merlin... Ron... you stupid, loveable, moron. _Shit_.

"I hit him," Hermione replied softly, then tried to push Ginny away. She had been shaken enough for a lifetime. "He saw my mark, he was making so much noise. I didn't know who would hear, so I punched him. While he was rolling away I grabbed my wand, and he grabbed his. Things got out of hand and I didn't know what else to do... Oh Ginny, I'm so sorry."

"Did you cast the killing curse?" Hermione nodded.

Ginny gritted her teeth and forced Hermione up onto a stool. Hermione could see that the girl was trying to see the picture as a whole, but the fact that Ron was her brother was a high hurdle to clear. Hermione could hope, but realistically, she didn't expect much to come from this. It was very possible that she had lost Ginny forever. If her friend wanted to drag her up to the Headmaster's office, Hermione realized she wouldn't stop her. She couldn't. And that was _exactly_ why you shouldn't make friends in the enemy ranks.

"Hermione? Hermione! Are you okay?" Draco's voice announced his entry only moments before he came barging into the room, closely followed by Blaise. As they opened the door, they could hear the Dark Arts alarm start screaming through the hallway.

_Sorry_, the castle piped up. _I tried to hold it off as long as I could. _

Hermione started, not expecting the castle to go out of her way to tell her that. She patted the desk and tried to muster up at least a little bit of gratitude. Draco came and examined her, only briefly acknowledging that Ron was laying dead just ten feet away. Blaise went straight to Ginny, who collapsed against him in anguish.

"We have to leave now," Draco said, almost soothingly, pulling Hermione gently to her feet.

"Give her a minute to recover," came the muffled reply from Ginny. "She's pretty beat up."

"We came across Professor Snape in the hallway," explained Blaise, "The Headmaster is furious – he finally found out about the castle. He's assuming that she's just done alterations, like him, but..."

"But? What is he going to do?" For the time, everyone forgot that Hermione had just killed somebody. The mood became solemn, and Draco pulled her closer to him.

"He called Mad-Eye in, Hermione," Draco answered this time. "The official order is to take you alive, however... well, if there's an accident, Albus has made it clear he'll overlook it." Hermione's face paled. Everyone knew you didn't tell Mad-Eye that unless you wanted it to happen. She allowed herself to be steered to the door. Before she disappeared, she turned back in, pleading.

"Ginny! I-"

"It's okay, Hermione," she answered quietly, horrified at the whole situation. Her best friends were all fighting for the other side, Ron was dead, and Albus was actually condoning bloodshed. "Mum will..." She faltered again, and wretched her eyes shut. "Mum will also be out to kill you. Please, if you can help it, don't kill any more of my family. Take care of yourself, okay?" Hermione's eyes welled up in tears. She would never kill Ginny's family on purpose, she wanted to argue, and then looked back at Ron. If she had cast anything else, perhaps it would have been a bit more convincing...

When the two of them were out of the room, Ginny turned to Blaise, and he smiled at her sadly.

"My family supports him, but are not active. I'll be staying here with you, but we have to go too. It won't look good if we're here when..." _When they find Ron's body_, Ginny finished mentally. She nodded and allowed herself to be escorted out.

As they moved, Draco reached into his robes and offered her a vial. She stared at him, surprised, and he just shrugged.

"Uncle Severus has had his eye on me since I could clink two vials together," he whispered with a lopsided grin. "I'd be a pretty bad apprentice if I didn't carry the basics on me." She snorted and tipped the vial down her throat, immediately feeling better. She was about to ask him what it was, but he put a finger to his lips and motioned to be silent. They moved quickly down through the shortcut to the main floor. When there, they carefully poked their heads around the corner. Moody was instructing a couple of people they didn't recognize to move out. The front door was already blocked, and it was safe to say the others had just been dispatched to cover the rest of the exits. Draco sighed.

Without further prompting, they turned around and kept moving through one of the back corridors. It was eerily silent, and when a shout of alarm sounded up behind them, they nearly jumped out of their skins. and they knew they had been spotted. Without turning around, they ran for the safety of the next turn. Before they could reach it, however, the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stood up and she instinctively shoved Draco away from her. They both stumbled in their opposite directions, slamming painfully against the stone walls. He turned to yell at her, but a ball of red passing between them stopped him short. The spell exploded violently at the end of the corridor. Hermione shuddered at the realization They frantically scrambled the rest of the way and ducked out of sight. Draco made for the right hall after that, but she grabbed him and pulled him towards the dungeon corridor instead. The voices of pursuit sounded up behind them so he didn't have time to argue.

As they clambered down the dungeon stairs, Hermione nearly took down Filch, who looked surprised at the two Head students who were so late after curfew.

"Sorry sir, excuse us!" Draco shot her a bewildered look. They were fugitives – she didn't need to apologize for Merlin's sake! Especially not to Filch of all people!

Whoever had been chasing them must have decided they went in the direction that wouldn't trap them.

As Hermione led them back to their common room, Draco began to feel trapped. When they entered quietly, looking for signs of an ambush, he panicked even further. _One way out,_ he thought glumly, _and if they find us here we're cooked!_ Hermione dragged him towards her bedroom, and his confusion deepened. Did she need a nap? Or had she given up and decided they should have one last go at it? But Hermione moved around the bed and started to rummage through the nightstand. His relief was palpable.

It didn't take long to hear pounding on the common room portrait. Had Filch ratted them out? Or had it just taken a short time to realize that the two students hadn't taken the obvious route? Hermione wasn't bothered either way though, convinced that she had found their way out. Turning to Draco, she grinned and held up the polished sapphire that Snape had given her ages ago.

"Your parents won't mind if we go barging in on their property unannounced?" Draco looked surprised, then shook his head. Severus would have already gone ahead to gather the Death Eaters. It was a bit sooner than they would have liked, but the Order would no longer stay passive, and so the attack on the Ministry was starting even as they spoke.

Entwining her fingers through his, she gripped the stone and mentally wished to go to the Manor. Their surroundings swirled and with a crack they were gone from sight. Hermione wanted to laugh. Who would have thought that almost dying last year would save her life now?

As soon as they landed outside of the gates, they apparated again immediately. Hopefully, the pursuers would know that Malfoy Manor was _not_ ripe for the picking. If they tried anyway, it would be their loss. The Malfoys were _very_ keen on activating their home security system when they went out.

Draco and Hermione bolted through muggle London, eyes frequently checking over their shoulders. Finally, the understanding that their ruse was up began to sink in. No more Hogwarts, no more Grimmauld, no more Weasley's. There would be no more attacks or raids, and no more little side projects. There was no more time to plan and plot, and Hermione would no longer have to deceive the people around her. Dread washed over her. She would have to activate the runes soon, she knew.

If she didn't die tonight, that was. Tonight the Ministry had to fall fast, and Hogwarts would be taken within the days of chaos that followed, when the Aurors would not be available to summon. Would the deaths that followed now be as awful as Remus? Would she regret killing Ronald? She realized that killing Ronald didn't particularly bother her, but instead, worried more about how Ginny felt about the whole thing. She had never wanted to hurt her friend.

Breath came in shallow huffs from both as time wore on, and she was thankful for everything that had happened so far. A year ago, she would have keeled over from physical exhaustion by now. As she followed Draco into a seedy looking alley, they slowed. A familiar figure was waiting for him, and Hermione couldn't help but notice the look of relief that washed over his face.

"Draco. Hermione." The two teenagers nodded in acknowledgement, but otherwise took the time to catch their breath. If asked a year ago, Severus would have been worried. Now, he found himself looking forward to see how the two of them would handle themselves. He held out a portkey, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

The cottage was abandoned but well kept. Hermione knew that Draco and Severus had been out here casting wards during the spring holiday. Hermione watched as they wove the final curses into the room and backed out through the stairs. Door shut, locked, and warded, they turned and hurried to the forest beyond. Fifteen minutes through the forest was when they decided it was time to move again.

They landed in Japan, then the Americas. The last key was back to Europe, where they split and walked in opposite directions for another ten minutes before apparating. Hopefully, sending the immediate pursuers on a wild goose chase would mean less resistance at the Ministry. Molly Weasley, at least, would be out for blood. The thought was terrifying – an angry witch was a dangerous witch. _If only they had been as serious when it came to the war_, she thought sadly. _Maybe things would have turned out different. _

Two more apparations and the Ministry loomed above her. Beside the gates waited Draco, holding a robe and mask out to her with a solemn expression on his face.

"Huh. Never thought I'd get to wear this ugly thing." Draco, recognizing her dry tone as humour, couldn't help but give her a wry grin.

Tendrils of smoke already rose from the Ministry. Parts of it was crumbling, and she saw a particularly large boulder come sailing down to land on an escaping wizard. He had noticed the danger too late. It was too bad, she thought, he had been so close. She couldn't help but marvel at how desensitized she had become.

They jogged up the steps and entered back to back, Draco flicking his wrist and sending someone flying almost immediately. The attacker crumpled against the wall, motionless.

There were those locked in single combat. They were tucked into corners or side rooms, but some were all out dodging through the battlefield of other duelists, otherwise engaged. There was a concentrated group of Death Eaters near the fireplaces – orders being shouted at those working to close them down. They also took on the nervous looking Ministry group that had formed, and rallied up strays as they went. She recognized Lucius near the fountain, mask gone, shouting at his own group. There were warnings for those who needed them, guidance for those who seemed to stray. He also barked out the occasional insult or encouragement to help keep spirits high, which surprisingly also proved to demoralize the enemy.

Draco and Hermione did a little bit of everything. They helped the smaller groups of Death Eaters that seemed to be getting overwhelmed, then forged on. Seeing how well Lucius was doing, they mimicked him and started encouraging the nearby Death Eaters. Some didn't seem too pleased when they were given an order – after all, who wanted to be told what to do by two kids?

The further in they got, the more dangerous it became. The Ministry back here had realized that following duel code would result in failure, and so the fighting was a lot more dirty. The Death Eaters also weren't in strong forces here, and more than once the two of them found themselves surrounded. A group of six looked positively gleeful when they surrounded the two of them, but soon found out that sometimes numbers didn't always dictate victory.

They tried to maim or disarm only – the fates of their enemies would be decided by trial. The Ministry had opposed Tom openly, but after they were removed from power, they would be given a choice to decide who they "really" supported. It made sense. Killing everyone in sight would result in a severe shortage of witches and wizards.

Several Death Eaters had stepped back in awe, and murmurs were going from group to group. Who is that? The Malfoy boy? Brilliant! No, that can't be Hermione Granger? Riddle? You mean she's really...? Amazing! The word spread like wildfire, and it was especially exciting for those just learning who she was.

Yes, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Riddle would be discussed in more than one pub when this was all over, and probably for some time to come. The two of them didn't even realize the impression they were making. They were too engaged in pushing forward and clearing the way.

If Hermione was confident in their ability to take the Ministry, it was reinforced by the site of her father in the middle of it all, perched on the fountain edge so he could easily see everything going on. His presence alone defeated a lot of people – they had thrown themselves to the ground and pleaded mercy before even being disarmed. For some reason, Hermione had always envisioned a disgusted leer on his face during the war, maybe even a bored one. Instead, he was smiling, even if it was a bit smug. He seemed to be chatting amiably to Severus and Bellatrix, who stood guard below, all while dishing out mercy and death to everyone else.

He saw her approaching, and hopped off the fountain. She winced, expecting his knees to buckle. Wasn't he a bit old to be climbing around like a ten year old?

"Hermione!" He greeted with a wave of his wand, as though he was right at home. He probably was, she realized - his mood was somewhere between his two servants who now stood on either side of him. Severus looked as if he had just been told he had to take Harry on as an apprentice, whereas Bella was acting as if she had just won a lifetime supply of her favourite treat. Even Hermione's presence didn't seem to upset her.

"Bellatrix," Tom snapped, "I want you to find Dolohov and have him and his group up start sweeping the upper levels. Have the Carrows and Yaxley go ahead and start through the Department of Mysteries. Draco, I apologize as I know you've just come from there, but I'll have you go back and tell Lucius to unlock the elevator and do the opposite. Have him start right below us and work his way down. I want everything cleared as soon as possible now that the Atrium is secure."

"Would you like me to join him, my Lord?" Tom thought for a minute then shook his head.

"No, I want you pick some of our juniors and hold here. Catch anyone who thinks they might be able to make a last minute run for it." Draco looked to Hermione and they nodded at each other. They weren't particularly keen on being separated, but it really wouldn't take two people to carry a message, and certainly not to hold the hall. The Death Eaters were always very thorough in their jobs – the chances of a stray Official escaping through the unlocked elevator was slim.

After Bella and Draco had taken their leave, Hermione waited for her own orders. Surprisingly, he led them to the elevators also, and they all stepped in behind him.

"My Lord, what did you have in mind?"

"Ah, yes," Tom said with a smile. "I'll have you two accompany me to the second floor. Let's see if anyone has holed themselves up in that Auror Office of theirs, shall we?"

Severus just nodded in agreement, and silence settled over the three of them. If anyone had told her that she'd be standing in an elevator with Severus Snape and Tom Riddle, listening peacefully to the cheerful jingle of elevator music, she would have sent them straight to St. Mungo's.

"Misuse of Muggle Artifacts is clear," Severus murmured, and she reported in kind that the Administrative Offices were the same. They moved deeper into the hall together. There was a slim chance that the Auror office would be occupied. The Aurors would be the last people to sit around and wait to be overrun. However, if they were here, they would cause the most trouble. The tension was high as they crept carefully towards the door.

They immediately retreated from the open doorway as a foray of colours came hurtling in their direction. Tom cackled, Severus groaned, and she just berated herself for not assuming that even though the Aurors might not hole themselves up, people would flock here for protection. She heard a shout of frustration as a stampede started – everyone had caught a glimpse of her father and were now trying to flee. They were just regular workers without a lick of fight in them.

Tom gave his orders, and they tried to start catching everyone making a run for it. They were more concerned about making it to the elevator or emergency stairwell, and Hermione realized that Draco was going to have a bit of surprise. It wouldn't be difficult for him to nab the occasional straggler though, so she didn't worry as she saw the elevator door slide shut.

The decision to flee had been contagious – the Auror office was cleared out. Still, they had been surprised once, so the three of them were careful as made their way through. They searched under desks and behind cubicle walls, and a foreign rustle near the exit caused all three wands to whip around to train on the figure brave enough to confront them.

Hermione didn't entirely catch what was said, but knew it was directed to her and caught the basic gist of it.

"I'm sorry?" She asked coldly, squinting to make out the form of Rufus Scrimgeour. _He must feel safe with that open door to his back_, she thought. But how far would he make it?

"Do you really need me to elaborate? Your parents mysteriously died..."

"My parents died in a car crash."

"There's no proof of that."

"Except, of course, the car crash."

"You could have caused such a thing. No proof that you didn't," he accused.

"No proof that I did," she shouted back, furious. "And my parents? How dare you make such a disgusting, ignorant assumption. I _loved_ my parents!"

"Voldemort is your father!" He pointed to Tom as if she may have forgotten. "He has always been keen on tricks and betrayals! He tricked your mother, bless her soul, into the same sort of life. You killed your parents, your muggle parents, to gain revenge on them for such an upbringing. The heir of Voldemort would do no less! Mur-"

She never thought she'd hate anyone as much as she hated Rufus Scrimgeour right now. She had been ready for accusations – after all, it's not like her slate was clean. She had murdered Ron. The blood of Remus was on her hands. She had let her friends and teachers think she was trustworthy.

But to accuse her of murdering her parents - granted, later she would almost be able to understand where the view had come from – was unforgivable. Rufus didn't know her, and therefor didn't know who she did and didn't care for. He thought her father was a warmonger, which, he was, and thought his daughter would be no different. She had never really made a good impression, even in their first few meetings...

_But_ _her parents_! She went back to fuming, and for a minute she thought her wand would snap. Then, as Tom's hand came to rest on her shoulder, obviously not able to understand what she was going through, but wishing to comfort her nonetheless, she shrugged it off.

"He's mine," she growled. Her wand slit an arc through the air, and Scrigmeour just barely deflected the spell and rolled away. When he got to his feet, he realized he may be in trouble and disappeared out into the hallway. Hermione chased after him, coming to a skidding halt at the door and throwing a few nasty spells out after him.

"You said we should keep him alive," Tom called after his daughter, as Severus came up beside him.

"I changed my mind," she screamed back, disappearing herself. Her voice filtered in from hallway, accompanied by several shouts and bangs and crashes. "We're killing him!" The sounds of battle got further away and Tom turned to his servant and shrugged, a smile splitting his face. Severus looked like he might go after her, but Tom grabbed his arm.

"Leave them, Severus."

"But my Lord? She's going to kill him?"

"Her wish, not mine. This outcome is much more preferable to me, and it'll toughen her up. Now, let's finish this up and go see how young Draco is faring."

Draco had been doing well, Severus noted. No one had expected that the general idea had been to hide until the Death Eaters had started their sweeping – leaving the exits undermanned. He successfully led his small group against the Officials and Aurors who had, in turn, grouped up to take them out. By the time that Severus approached, there was little left to do.

"Round up our dead and wounded," he demanded, knowing that the others should be done with their floors soon. The Death Eaters split up to carry out his orders, but he stared at the elevator, frowning. Tom had gone down another floor to see what interesting things Rufus might have to look through. If his confidence in Hermione had been correct, the man's locks and wards would no longer apply.

Still...

His thoughts were temporarily dispelled as Lucius called his name, approaching him with a grin that would rival that of a Cheshire Cat.

* * *

><p>Tom pushed the door open. The room was quiet, but something felt... wrong.<p>

Still, he moved towards the Minister's desk, but froze as he was hit with something. It was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He hadn't even felt it coming, and feeling no immediate effects he turned and raised his own wand in retaliation. His magic faltered. _Blast it all_, he cursed. Of course it would have to be Albus, who now stepped out of the shadows with eyes narrowed. The Headmaster knew that it was one of the only spells he wouldn't be able to detect fast enough to dodge or deflect. His magic would be locked for several minutes – which could prove to be fatal. His eyes flickered to the doorway as it shut, and he noticed more Order members as they removed their invisibility spells. Albus flicked his wand and Tom fell to his knees, unable to dispel the weight of the spell on him.

"Bravo, Albus. Well done, well done." The annoyance was obvious in his tone – the mistake had been careless and easily avoided. When Rufus died, his wards and locks would have dropped. That meant floo access to his office would have reopened. Of course the Order would have been alerted and come straightaway.

Albus gave him a wry smile to show he was thinking along the same lines, and Tom just fingered his wand without raising it. If he could talk Albus into giving him a few moments of his time, he'd have his magic back and they'd be on even footing. In fact, he may not even have to talk – the group was just staring at him as if he was some sort of creature on display. _Yes_, he thought grimly. _Keep staring for another four minutes or so, by all means._

The silence was short lived, but not by anyone in the room. The office doors were blasted nearly off their hinges. They creaked violently, the outer layer that still remained in tact, charred. The Order closest to the door had to dive out of the way in order to prevent themselves from being scorched. The familiar flames were laced with black smoke, erupting through room and around in a clear circle until it splashed between him and his attackers. The fire had sputtered out right before her landing, the black becoming more prominent as it rose and shaped into a human form. Soon Hermione became visible, and he wondered when and where she had learned short distance apparation. He was pleased. Tom, for one, could appreciate such theatrics.

She stood protectively over him before peering down, checking to make sure there was no obvious damage.

"Father," she greeted before turning her attention towards the small crowd. "Don't bother yourself." It was a cocky statement, but he saw that her gaze was cold and detached. Almost bored.

Anyone who had been within earshot had fallen deadly quiet, horrified looks dawning over the few Order members present. The only one who didn't look surprised was Albus, who just closed his eyes and ran a hand warily over his face.

So she _had_ been aware. He should never have played around with this.

She had always looked and acted like Cassandra – very nearly a carbon copy of the woman. However, at the moment, the girl he had watched carefully for almost her entire life was almost unrecognizable. And Tom, who was studying her from his collapsed position on the floor, looked nothing short of proud. She was truly his child at this moment – everyone in the room could see that much.

Hermione's entire being screamed her heritage. Her posture was excellent, her wand was already tilted down in a pose similar to her father's. She was prepared to flick whatever spell she deemed necessary at a moment's notice. She had obviously run into some trouble before arriving: she was dirty and bloody, though he doubted it was hers. In the end, it only added to the fearsome image she portrayed. Her core, healthy and strong, radiated and crackled around her in a dangerous warning. He felt some of the Order shift restlessly behind him. They were afraid. _Imbeciles._

"I told you, Albus!" Alastor accused, not afraid of the girl in front of him, and he moved to charge forward. Hermione casually deflected one spell, then another. He barely had time to deflect her retaliating shot, and the girl wasted no time, pressing heavily on the offensive. Alastor stumbled a few steps back. With a huff of annoyance, Hermione cast the killing curse. Alastor dropped to ground, and there was silence as she calmly backed into her original stance.

After a few moments of silence which probably consisted of half the Order subconsciously pinching themselves in an attempt to wake up, all hell broke loose. A few of the Order were began to flee – finally realizing that the anti-apparation wards were down. Others circled in around Dumbledore, protecting him from any damage that might come his way. Death Eaters, led by Draco, came flooding into the room, and soon everyone's wand was pointed at someone else. Albus gripped his own angrily, cursing the fact that people thought he needed protection. A hand grabbed him and pulled him back.

"Albus, we need to retreat, now. The Ministry has fallen, and if we follow there'll be no one to protect the school." Kingsley had a point, and Albus called for a retreat. The remaining Order disapparated without protest. After the enemy force was gone, the room exploded into excitement. Albus Dumbledore was one of the most feared wizards for their side, and they had forced a retreat out of him! It deserved nothing less than the hearty whoops and cheers that tumbled happily around the room.

A small laugh came out from under her. Looking down in inquiry Tom just smiled up at her, and at that, Hermione joined in - even if it was a little nervous and tired. Some of the other Death Eaters crowded around them to make sure they were okay.

"My Lord... are you?" Tom pushed Bellatrix's hand away, using Hermione to pull himself up. It was not meant as an offensive gesture, but Lestrange looked at her master as though he had just slapped her. Hermione, dealing with a torrent of different feelings from the night combined, couldn't help but wonder if she looked a little smug. She intended to keep her silent promise to Narcissa, but it didn't change the fact that she hated the woman. If all she could do was enrage her with little things like this, so be it. Bellatrix wasn't above such tactics and stomped from the room angrily.

Severus, Lucius and Draco had taken the initiative to disperse their army. What they had come for was complete – and now the main force had to rest up for the battle for Hogwarts. A few smaller groups were appointed to stay and guard their victory, and when they seemed disheartened, they had been reassured. It wouldn't be a hard assignment for them as the Order was too weak and scattered to retaliate any further. They would just have to rest up here instead of at home. There would still be summons for the final battle when the time came.

As they did this, Hermione escaped out the front doors and sank down on the steps. She needed fresh air, and less people crowding around her asking her an endless stream of repeated questions. Was she _the_ Hermione Granger? How long had she been on their side? When had her heritage become discovered? It was amazing to see the difference between the younger, lower ranked Death Eaters to the higher end. They were far more curious than polite.

"You okay?" Draco asked as he moved to sit next to her. They had finished a while ago, and now the Circle was planning how they would like to take Hogwarts. Hermione and Draco, of course, were both welcome to their input, but he wanted to check up on his girlfriend to see how the night had affected her.

"I've killed three people tonight, Draco, and each one has been easier than the one before. You saw what I was like after Ron. Then Rufus - I felt badly but didn't really dwell on it. Mad-Eye... I didn't even think. I almost feel guilty for not feeling guilty, does that make sense?" She rested her head on her knees and sighed.

"Yeah. I guess I know what you mean," he replied quietly. "I've never killed anyone before tonight either. If it makes you feel any better, you looked really cool back there protecting Tom." She let out a bark of laughter, and when she realized he wasn't kidding, she ended up collapsing into a fit of giggles. A lot of it was from pent up frustration, she knew.

"Glad to know I looked cool, that's always important." He was about to protest, but she waved her hand to stop him. "I know what you mean. It's just funny because - and don't tell anyone!" she leaned in closer as if sharing some great secret, "Honestly, I was so terrified I nearly peed my pants. The Order could have taken me at any time, and Dumbledore just stood there looking murderous. I almost wanted to apologize and say I got the wrong room, then let myself out!"

"You would have never guessed," Draco replied with a smile. That version he could at least relate with. It was good to know she was still human. Together, they sat in comfortable silence until footsteps sounded behind them.

"Hermione, Tom would like to see you. There are some matters he wishes to discuss with you present." Hermione pushed herself to her feet and nodded in Snape's direction. After she left, Severus sat down where she had been only seconds before.

"How are you feeling, Draco?"

"I feel guilty," Draco finally said, and his Godfather looked at him quizzically. "Hermione feels guilty for not feeling guilty, and I said I knew what she meant. But – I never really thought about it, and now I'm feeling guilty too."

"Ah, you're feeling guilty that you forgot to feel guilty about not feeling guilty?" Draco smirked at his Godfather, who just answered with his own, tightlipped smile. "People react differently, Draco. For instance, someone who's normally considered cruel might find themselves unable to take a life. Also, someone who is considered kind, might not be bothered much by it. You never really know until it happens. Do you understand?" Draco nodded. "Now, what's really bothering you?" Draco shrugged.

"She just killed Mad-Eye without a second thought. Probably would have faced off Dumbledore. It's a bit disturbing, to be honest..." Severus just patted his charge's knee and sighed. His Godson was still evading the question.

"_And_?"

"And what?"

"I asked what was bothering you. You didn't answer. I'll ask again - what's _really_ bothering you?" Draco's face crumpled, and he withdrew from his Godfather's touch.

"What if she doesn't need me anymore?" Severus looked flabbergasted at the thought. Whatever he had expected, it wasn't this. "Did you see her facing off the entire Order like some sort of magical Amazon Queen? She didn't need anybody, didn't want anybody. Sure, she said she was scared, but it doesn't change the facts. What if I fall behind? What if the war ends and she realizes that she's stronger than me? What if I'm not good enough, and-"

"Do you really think that?" Draco stopped, then frowned. He tried a few times to gather his feelings, but it seemed he was at a loss for words. "Draco – just because she doesn't need you to hold her hand during a fight anymore, doesn't mean she doesn't need you, or want you. Do you love her?"

"Of course I do!"

"Can you trust her?"

"Of course I can." He almost sounded offended.

"Isn't that enough?" Draco opened his mouth and closed it again, lost for words. When his Godfather said it like that, his worries really did seem a little ridiculous. His mentor got up and brushed himself off.

"Come on. If those two are taking this long, someone is going to have to stop them from burning the building down. Oh, and Draco?" Draco stopped mid rise and looked up to meet Severus' appreciative, and slightly amused, gaze. "If it's any consolation, you _both_ looked... cool... battling your way in together."

Draco, realizing that his Godfather had been nearby all along, flushed in embarrassment. But truth be told, it was a little satisfying to hear, even if Severus deliberately chosen his wording in order to make fun of him. He couldn't help but grin as he ran to catch up to the master spy, and gave him an uncustomary punch to the shoulder. Severus forced his expression into one of scowling displeasure.

"If you take such liberties on my person again, Draco, I'll have you scrubbing cauldrons until you're a hundred." The threat would have made even the most fearless Gryffindor cower, but in his high spirits, Draco could only chuckle. Then, trying to make a serious face of his own, he sighed.

"Of course, of course. But just think, when _I'm_ the Potions Master, I can just make the first years do it. Not a very good punishment for me, is it? You'll have to come up with better threats in the future."

Severus just laughed then, something he hadn't done in a while. It was a rich, deep sound, and he shouldered his Godson back playfully. Maybe he had taught the boy a little too well.

* * *

><p>AN: Wow, and one more chapter plus an epilogue to go! I can't believe it. Next Saturday will be our final chapter, with the epilogue coming shortly after (in length it looks like it's going to be very similar to the first chapter). I didn't have a chance to look over this release as closely as I normally do, my brain is oozing out my ears today and I'm feeling a bit cross-eyed, so I'm hoping for the best. If not now, the chapter release would have been pushed back until Monday night or later, and that's just a horrifying thought! School and work were a bit hectic this week and I didn't have as much time as I would have liked. OH WELL! Let's hope for the best. Hope you all enjoyed it!

For those of you reviewing, thank you so much for your kind words over the last two months. I love seeing what you guys think!


	11. The Final Battle

**CHAPTER 11  
><strong>The Final Battle

* * *

><p>His fingers traced over her bare hip lightly, then slid around her waist as he snuggled in closer against her back. They had returned to Malfoy Manor to rest up, comforted by the idea that they were, for a time, safe within its guarded walls.<p>

Draco stared over her shoulder and out the window. The afternoon was coming to an end, and after a quick dinner, the two of them would be travelling to the Forbidden Forest. Hermione would be breaching the grounds before anyone else to complete her project. Draco had insisted on going with her, but her father had only agreed to escorting her partway. He had tried to argue that he could hide out with Blaise, but again, was shot down. Tom would have him lead the air attack on Hogwart's towers. Many of their younger members excelled on brooms. Draco, being young enough to relate easily to his team, but seasoned and talented enough to be respected, was the ideal choice.

They were both aware that her father was planning the battle with efficiency in mind, but it didn't mean they had to like being parted. _Again_.

Hermione gave a contented sigh as he trailed light kisses along her shoulder. They lay together for a long time, bodies entwined, until finally, the expected knock came. Severus' muffled voice called for them to get ready. _It was time_.

* * *

><p>The sun was only beginning to set when Hermione and Draco stopped walking. They had reached the furthest point that he could follow, and now it was time to say goodbye. The battle for Hogwarts was finally on them, planned and already set into motion. Still, it all seemed a bit surreal. An uncharacteristic calmness and acceptance had fallen over them, and it had only intensified as the day went on. Time had slowed to a crawl. When Draco folded her into his parting embrace, it felt like they stood there for hours, when in reality it had only been several dragging minutes.<p>

He took her hand and pressed a small, enchanted satchel into it. "Your bracelet," he explained. "There's enough magic to set off all sorts of alarms, so don't take it out until you're ready, okay?" She nodded as she tucked the gift away, not trusting her voice. He pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. "Be safe." She choked out a laugh at this, and he looked to her quizzically.

"Same goes for you. You'll be in more danger than me, I think." He smiled and shrugged. The air raid would be dangerous, of course, but it would also be unexpected. It was also an in and out operation: strike at one spot, then another, and finally withdraw before they could assemble. The concept was sound, and he would be much safer on a broom than on the front line. They would have to rely not only on their own strength, but also luck. His thoughts were interrupted as she kissed him again briefly and pulled away. With a parting smile to dazzle him, he watched her disappear into the forest. She would arrive at the castle within the quarter hour. After he hadn't seen or heard her for at least a few more minutes, Draco turned to head back to his own squadron. Determination flared inside of him as some new ideas presented themselves to him. There were preparations to be made.

When Hermione emerged from the Forbidden Forest, it was on the southernmost border. She took her time, moving carefully from the protection of the trees, then along the lake's edge. She moved north and travelled through the vegetable patches and around the Herbology Greenhouses. There were fewer guards than expected, she found, and they were easily avoided. Albus was still relying on heavily on the wards - a little too much, if you asked her. It was a mistake that he wouldn't have made if he had treated the castle like the sentient being she was, and not like a possession to control.

Though, Hermione suspected that no one would ever understand Hogwarts quite like she did. Months of companionship had been enlightening to say the least. She had memorized where every trip and trap lay, how some wards moved (much like the staircases), and how some were deactivated at specific times of the day. She knew them so well by now that she could feel them, and at first, it had been overwhelming.

Still, the wards were already very thorough. Hermione knew that she was the only one who could purposely avoid being detected. Such a thing implied that either A) Albus hadn't been as vigilant as he should have been, or B) he had been manipulating events and feigning ignorance the whole time. He must have, at least, known where Sirius Black was the entire time. Had he known about Quirrell? Barty Crouch Jr.? What about the basilisk that had been set loose? She suspected the castle resisted him out of spite, but still, it would have been impossible for Hogwarts to silence herself_ that _many times.

She decided, either way, that Albus Dumbledore was truly an imbecile.

The runes and wards of Hogwarts, agonizingly obvious in the beginning, had gradually faded for her over time. Now they presented themselves as a soft, collective buzz in the back of her mind. Hermione knew when she was getting too close to setting something off, and marveled at how her subconscious took over, steering her clean of being caught all on its own. She hadn't even realized until now that when she was away from the school, the world was eerily quiet.

She side stepped certain wards and disabled others that he wouldn't notice. If she was caught, it would be by the issued patrols, and so Hermione directed her concentration to moving swiftly and silently from shadow to shadow. Each time she was safely concealed, she would carefully look around. Were there students about? Where were the guards? Did anything feel wrong? She waited until the closest Auror disappeared around the far side of the greenhouse before setting off again. Even though she was cloaked in an invisibility spell, one couldn't be too careful. She knew her movement would cause the backdrop to shimmer, and to a careful gaze, her presence would be obvious.

She reached the bottom of the rendezvous point and pulled out a small, folded origami bird. With a soft puff of breath, it came to life and fluttered up towards the third floor.

It only took a few moments for a rope to come sailing down to land at Hermione's feet. She fastened the loop to the harness she had worn underneath her robes. With a gentle tug from her end, the ready signal was sent and the rope went tight. She held on a little fretfully as her feet cleared the ground.

Hermione could have thought of a hundred more preferable ways to scale the castle walls, but so could Albus, and so she had to resort to this sort of primitive movement. Halfway up she chanced a look back to the grounds, and sucked in a breath of appreciation. Maybe this slow, agonizing tug upwards wasn't so bad after all.

Stars were already popping into view, and the crescent moon sharpened in the rapidly darkening sky. The last traces of vibrant oranges and yellows and blues were quickly disappearing over the Forbidden Forest. The sounds of creatures just waking could be heard cutting through the silence. Crickets chirped back and forth to each other in song. An own hooted softly nearby - it was probably hiding out in the greenhouses, waiting for dinner.

All in all, it was beautiful, and if Hermione didn't know better, she would have never believed that a war was about to take place. Finally, there was a final jerk and she turned to help pull herself through the small opening.

"Hermione," Blaise greeted, barely above a whisper, and she gave him a smile. She wondered if she should tease him that claiming neutrality meant that you didn't offer to sneak people into the supposed enemy castle. Instead, she clapped him heartily on the shoulder and crept by him. He followed her to the portrait and they ascended the hidden stairs that would take her up to the seventh floor. Hopefully Harry wasn't examining his Marauder's Map, or this could get very messy, very fast.

She was surprised, but not unhappy, to find Ginny casually leaning against the exit. She gave Hermione a small smile and nod, then jerked her head towards the hallway. All clear.

Hermione was flanked by both students all the way to the Room of Requirement, and she was suspicious when they didn't run into any trouble on the way. Surely Albus would have stationed someone here? When she raised her eyebrows in inquiry, the redhead just twisted her head about, as though she was looking for something. She stopped abruptly, and angrily turned to Blaise while thrusting a thumb in the direction of a tapestry. Hermione followed their gazes and saw someone's boots clearly visible. Blaise could only shrug and flick his wand. The evidence disappeared deeper into the small alcove, and Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione. _ Never let boys do the clean up_, it clearly said, and Hermione had to stifle a snort.

Hermione did not have to pace three times to get the entrance to open. In fact, it was waiting for her as she approached. Tripping the wards or not, of course the castle would recognize her presence. She would be eager to finally see their deal set into motion, and so approaching the door, Hermione turned to her two friends.

"Thank you," she whispered softly. "For everything."

"Good luck," Ginny replied in kind, throwing her arms around her best friend and squeezing affectionately. Blaise reached forward to shake her hand, but at a glare from Ginny, decided against the formal parting and also hugged her.

"I'm counting on you to take care of her." He chuckled into her hair before pulling away.

"I'll do my best." Ginny gave a derisive growl at this, and Blaise could only roll his eyes. "Of course, we both know she doesn't need taking care of." Hermione stepped into the room and watched her friends disappear as the door slid shut.

_I'm sorry_, the castle offered.

"Don't lie to me," she muttered bitterly. "You knew what kind of power this would entail, just like you knew all about Ark. You're just as bad as Dumbledore sometimes."

_When did you realize this would probably kill you_?

Having the castle herself actually put words to it was close to devastating. Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few time, and it became dryer the more time dragged on.

"Promise me you'll let my father in."

_Hermione..._

"Promise me! It's all that matters."

_I promise. And with all the extra runes you've added, I will even help him secure the castle. You've more than deserved it. _

Then, as an added thought, she offered almost apologetically: _Don't give up just yet._

Hermione approached the center of the room, and swallowed hard. She pulled out the pouch Draco had given her and rolled it in her palm nervously. She knew what was in there but... would it be enough? _It doesn't matter_, she thought. The time to uphold her end of the deal was here. Without further delay, she yanked it open and emptied the contents into her hand. Tears sprang to her eyes.

It was far more than expected. She immediately understood why she couldn't take it out before now. The bracelet practically radiated with power, their gem centers swirling in angry torrents of concentrated mana. What had brought the tears to her eyes wasn't just the obvious strain they had gone through, but the small folded parchment that fell out with it.

_From all of us. Don't forget that we love you. Especially me._

With renewed determination, she hooked the bracelet around her wrist. The magic wove and familiarized itself with her. Hermione took a deep breath, confident that her core had accepted the extra batteries, so to speak. Still standing in the center of the room, she extended her hands, fingers spread, and closed her eyes to concentrate.

_Patefacius!_

The change was instantaneous.

Whatever rumbled beneath her mahogany floors shook so hard that Hermione was almost thrown from her feet. The room exploded into a tornado of power, her clothes and robes whipped violently around her. Her magic was drained almost immediately. She winced as she felt, rather than heard, the charms crack and explode one by one.

She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. It didn't seem the castle was hindered in this aspect, however, because she shook and wailed as each wall lit up in turn. The noise became almost painfully high pitched. The boards flared golden, then flashed to brilliant, glittery silvers. They burnt and embedded themselves into the castle's very being. . Hermione realized that if these moments were her last, that the castle would make sure they were wonderful. Her doubts were erased, and her eyes slid shut in ecstasy. Hogwarts projected everything she felt through their connection - power, freedom, happiness, thankfulness.

Outside, the Death Eaters were not left unaffected. They watched from their several camps in a mixture of terror and wonder. They too could hear the wailing, and could see the entire fortress momentarily flare to life. The centaurs whispered excitedly among themselves. _She had really done it! She was truly the child of the prophecy! No other since Madam Ravenclaw could have pulled it off!_ Bane gave Tom a long look and nodded his head in approval. They would give their lives if need be. The girl had held up the end of her bargain – an impossible task, they had thought, despite knowing that the stars had foretold her success.

Severus saw the tiniest flicker of emotion ripple over his master's face. He had known Tom for the better part of his life. The Death Eaters adored him. Bellatrix worshiped him. Cassandra, who had downright hated him, had fallen in love. Tom, who had always rejected the very concept, had not been able to return her feelings. He was, many thought, incapable. When Hermione had come out of nowhere, Severus thought it would be the same. For a while, it was. She had seen him as Father by title only, and though he had acted distant, it was mostly because Tom hadn't had a bloody clue what to do with her. When she started to display qualities that Cassandra didn't have, Tom's interest had perked up.

Quite by accident, he found that if he pushed her, she would push back. The more he did so, the more he found out. He had already known that she had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, but it didn't stop at books. What really set her apart (because frankly, everyone wanted power) was her level of determination to get it - with or without help. It was then, on closer inspection, Tom had found out that she had inherited his massive core. His curiosity quickly turned to delight. Severus and Lucius, the two who were closest to both Riddles, sat back and watched the impossible happen.

Even if he couldn't identify it himself, Tom had come to love someone. Unfortunately, it had happened at a most inopportune time. Severus knew that if Hermione died, it would be a terrible blow. Her death could change everything. Would he execute the entire resisting force? Would he once again forget that he was fighting for a better future, and not just for the sake of power?

_Please_, Severus begged silently, turning his eyes back to the castle. _ For all our sake, let her be alright_.

The castle gave a final shudder before returning to its dark, looming form. For a time, everything was silent. Draco took this chance to signal his small force to move, and in a blur, they swept over the heads of the army and towards the castle.

The squadron was small – twenty of them including himself. Most of them had played Quidditch at some recent time in their life, and so Draco had known each would have excellent aim. Instead of wasting precious mana, they tossed the Quaffle-like balls they had brought along. Some released a poisonous gas while other exploded on impact. Some would wait for body heat to activate. Others just took a good jolt to set them off. They hit several positions, always withdrawing long before the defenders could rally for a counterattack.

By the last sweep, Draco was pleased to note they had only lost two people. He circled around and landed on top of the Astronomy tower. Draco took the time to turn and peer over the balcony.

The wards were finally down, and he was glad to know that the fearsome looking army that would start marching on the castle at any time now, was his. Some of his team moved to secure the hallway, but a few others came to his side. Together, they watched the final battle begin.

At Tom's wave, each leader gave a fierce battle cry, which worked its way down the ranks and to the very back. The shouts became louder, and hooves started beating. The sound of weapons on shields created a steady rhythm as the front line started to move forward slowly.

While armoured trolls were the ones creating noise, the giants took the lead and swung their massive weapons around impressively, roaring. The centaurs, still stomping their hooves, parted from the group and galloped towards the southern ramparts. Draco was surprised, but not upset, to see the colony of Acromantula following not far behind.

The older students, along with the professors and other adults, poured from the front entrance. The senior Aurors took lead of those around them and shouted out their orders. At the last hundred meters, the attacking force broke into a run. Those watching, even this far up, could tell that many died within seconds on impact.

There was the sound of grinding metal and stone as the knights and gargoyles came to life. The knights immediately started pressing students back out of harm's way, along with the Death Eaters who seemed to be in trouble. A line of knights formed in an attempt to disarm the adults, but as one was toppled, another rose his sword high in the air and cleaved the offending wizard in two. There was a ripple of horror as people scrambled away from the knights. Unfortunately, the gargoyles took this opportunity to stomp and pluck the scattered members clean from their ranks. The shouts that had filtered through the night turned to screams. The Order had finally realized that the castle herself was against them. Draco sneered. _Leave it to the Light to believe what they want to right up until it's too late_, he thought. Even their daftest Death Eaters would have been suspicious long before.

Draco was pleased to see that his stronger duelists had taken the initiative and gone ahead. The weaker ones crowded around him, waiting for orders, and he decided to send them back in the sky. They would prove more useful there, and he helped refill their packs from those who had left theirs behind. Within a half hour, Draco watched the last of them take off. He warned them to stay clear of the Dementors, but they could only laugh him off. They were rested and confident and ready to wreak havoc from above. _Let_ the Dementors have some of that happiness!

Shaking his head to no one in particular, Draco moved to the door. He jogged briskly down the steps, eager to join the main force. For the most part, he ignored the panic that rose up around him. Sometimes he would recognize one of the regulars from rugby, and knowing that they wanted nothing to do with this mess, he would tell them to return to their common rooms. He made it clear that students waiting quietly for this to be over would not be harmed.

Some of the students complied, turning on their heel and heading straight back to their common rooms. However, the more people he spoke to, the more that flocked around him eagerly, looking for information and guidance.

"Fighting for Dumbledore is probably the right thing to do," piped up a seventh year Hufflepuff. "But... hell! We_ know_ you, Draco! We trust you."

"More than that crotchety old Headmaster, anyway!" There was laughter then, and murmurs of agreement.

"Where's Hermione?" He turned to see a small second year Gryffindor looking up at him with wide eyes. Draco knelt in front of him and put a hand on each of his shoulders, firmly. The other students around them fell quiet, curious what his answer would be. Where _was_ Hermione?

"It's a long story, but at the moment, she's freeing the castle." The response was immediate. Draco, though respected, didn't have the same adoration that some of the students had come to have for Hermione. The boy in front of him, for example, was the one who had come to the snowball fight, many months ago. After she had included him, paid mind to him, he had become enchanted with her.

Still, Draco watched in bewilderment as the students' allegiances began to shift rapidly. Not only their Head Boy was on the other side, but their Head Girl too? If students like them were fighting against the Headmaster, surely the Death Eaters weren't as wrong as they had been told!

And where _was_ Dumbledore? Why hadn't anyone from the Order reassured them like their Head Boy was doing now? Draco had offered them an alternative, had given them his time. He was still their friend. Fresh questions began to pop up from the increasing crowd, and Draco frowned. He couldn't just leave them, but he had delayed in joining the battle for long enough...

As if the stray thought had been plucked clean from the air, Blaise pushed his way to the front.

"I'll take care of them." His deep rumble sent everyone back into silence. "Come on. We'll find somewhere safe and I'll tell you all the whole story." Draco took his chance to bid the group farewell. Some moved to shake his hand, and others slapped his shoulder in good nature. There were a lot of well wishes for Hermione to pass on.

Draco, who continued down the hall after most of the crowd had dispersed, heard a particularly aggressive shout come from the hall nearby. Curious, he took a peek around. Hermione would never forgive him if something happened to Ginny, so he moved forward to make sure she was doing alright. On his arrival, the girl seemed momentarily distracted, and left herself open for attack. Bellatrix threw a curse at the youngest Weasley, but Draco deflected it, scowling. Bellatrix really was a dirty fighter. Ginny, reassured that Draco wasn't here to help his family, turned her attention back to Lestrange.

"Alright there, Ginny?" The girl didn't look back this time, but Draco could see a grin crack her face. He stepped up beside her and extended his wand, just in case.

"Filthy traitor!" Bellatrix screeched. The two students just raised their eyebrows at each other.

"You going to be okay if I go?" he asked more clearly. Bellatrix snarled, then looked almost gleeful. Her thoughts were painfully clear to Draco, and he narrowed his eyes as he backed towards the door, wand extended.

"Bellatrix, when you approach our master about this, don't forget to mention the incident during Spring hols. I believe Hermione had to be removed from_ my _home all because you were plotting to kill her in her sleep? I'm sure my future father-in-law," he put emphasis on the title, "would love to hear all about _that_." Bellatrix's face darkened at the not-so-subtle threat, but Draco couldn't help but notice the flicker of fear that danced across it too. "Forgive me, Aunt, but if you want to play that game, I'll take you up on it. Now, since it's not proper to team up in a duel, I'll take my leave now."

He winked at Ginny, and she gave him a lopsided smile.

"No worries," she said, a bit smugly. "I'll help convince her to stay quiet."

After that, Bella gave a screech and the duel resumed in earnest. Draco took his leave, as promised, convinced Ginny was fine and could hold her own. Still, it didn't stop him from grabbing the first student he could trust and sending her to make sure Ginny was okay.

The night wore on, and the castle proved to be a valuable ally. More than once Hogwarts released some terrifying stone monster from her deepest chasms, the most recent that Draco had seen being a life sized dragon that spat boulders. He winced a little when one landed on Fenrir Greyback. So the aim could use a little improvement he thought. At least it took out the Order member Fenrir had been trying to eat as well.

He saw his father fighting in the courtyard, and started down the remaining stairs when a familiar voice toned through his mind.

_You may enter now_.

Not needing further encouragement, he turned on his heel and hurried back _up_ the steps. If it had been for anything or anyone else, he would have been upset at the obvious backtracking. How long had it been? Three hours? Four? Was Hermione alright? He would find out shortly. What if...? No, he couldn't let himself think such things. It had been enough. It had to have been!

"Draco!" Ginny cried, as he stepped out from the seventh floor shortcut. She was scrambling up the staircase, Blaise not far behind.

The three of them wasted no more time, and sprinted the rest of the way to the Room of Requirement. Draco was through the door as soon as it was open wide enough. He stopped short when he saw Hermione laying in the middle of the floor, and for a minute, he expected the worst. Fearfully he scrambled to her side and lay his head against her chest. _Please let her heart be beating,_ he pleaded. His hand ran over her chest and neck, searching for some sort of sign that she was still alive. There! And as if the ruse was up, she took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Could've used one more," she groaned, and Ginny, who was now knelt opposite of Draco, hiccuped as she started to laugh and cry at the same time. Then, as Draco sobbed into her chest gratefully, she wheezed again. "Squeeze me much harder and I might burst." When he moved back and stared at her incredulously, she grinned weakly and held up her wrist. All of the charms were toast. They were black and charred. Some were even chipped or broken in half. She had burnt her reserves, the entire bracelet, and then some. "I forgot what it was like to feel this..._ ugh_."

He choked out a laugh too then, and picked her up and carried her to the chair. The three of them all cried gratefully together, and even Blaise, who stood quietly in the corner, felt himself choke up a little.

_She's drained, but she'll survive_.

She was about to nod unconscious, when she snapped awake and grabbed his hand roughly.

"Who else?" Her stared at her, surprised, and she nodded her head weakly towards the bracelet. "Who all made these? I know there's more than you three." Draco smiled at her, and brushed away a strand of sweaty hair.

"Uncle Severus. My mother. Even your father chipped in when he found out. He was_ furious_ that I didn't tell him sooner. But... we all made you charms, Hermione."

"I see," and finally, she let her eyes slide shut again and was out. He panicked for a minute, feeling for a pulse. Still there. She would be fine, she just needed rest. It was over, and it had been enough.

"Ginny, will you stay with her?" When the girl made to protest, he frowned. "Please, she doesn't want you out there." Ginny's mouth clenched into a firm line. _Her family..._

"You have to stop Albus," she muttered, unhappily. "Tom is already fighting Harry, but even if he wins, the war will still continue as long as Dumbledore can pull the strings. The longer this goes on..." _The more people we will lose_, Draco mentally finished for her. He nodded, and stood. He motioned for Blaise to stay with the girls, and the young man just nodded and took up guard duty at the door.

"Protect them," he pleaded, and the door shut behind him.

By the time he reached the corridor that lead to the Headmaster's office, no one was in sight. It was almost eerie how the stones cracked under his feet as he approached. The office seemed empty also, but instinct suddenly told him to duck, and knowing not to dismiss such a thing, he complied. A streak of blue went sailing by his head.

"It's amazing, isn't it? What a witch or wizard can achieve after going into the Ark." Draco didn't reply, just set his jaw and twisted around to face his attacker. Albus had his usual casual look about him, but Draco could sense the badly concealed distaste the Headmaster harboured towards him. "It was last fall, wasn't it? You both changed so drastically around that time. I should have known. She held such promise before you got involved. All this," he waved vaguely, "could have been avoided. What has she done?"

"She did what the castle asked of her," Draco spat out with a sneer. "All your runes were replaced. All of the originals, everything that was meant to be, is reinforced now. Hogwarts was very happy to be finally free from you, Headmaster." Albus frowned. He knew the girl was talented but...

"So your master let his own daughter die for the cause, did he? What a shame, but not all that surprising." Draco's expression broke into a proud smile, unguarded and broad, and it made Albus falter.

"Of course he didn't. Tom adores her, even you should know that. She's tired... but very much alive."

"Impossible! How?" Draco couldn't see the harm in telling Albus, so he continued.

"It was a gamble, but in the end we decided to use mana charms, and lots of them. All the people who loved her filled them."

"Then Ginny Weasley..."

"Not ours," he admitted, then grinned again smugly. "But not _yours_ either." At this, Albus' face became even more frightening, and furiously, he whipped his wand in a violent upward motion in attempt to disarm the Slytherin boy. Minor curses were exchanged then, but Draco didn't dare up the stakes by casting anything more dangerous. Already he had been hit with something nasty, and his shoulder throbbed. Minutes in and already there had been too many close calls for him.

He wasn't sure if he should be proud or upset. _No one_ duelled Albus Dumbledore, and though the man was pushing Draco back, Draco was holding on desperately. Unless he changed his tactics soon...

Draco would have to think outside the box – play outside the rules. He tried to concentrate. What would Tom do? No, that was irrelevant. He wasn't capable of such things. Then a thought struck him: what would Hermione do? Hermione would refuse to lose, that much he was sure of. She would probably end up punching the Headmaster, and as simple as it sounded, it gave Draco an idea. Albus would _always_ win in a straight up Wizarding duel – age and experience reigned supreme in this case. Draco was young, which made him physically stronger. He also was a Potions Apprentice.

All he only had to do was get close enough to administer one of the vials that hung on his belt. The original plan had been to use the result of his Potions Project on Albus after defeat, but why not use it to win in the first place? Draco summoned his best defensive shield and began his approach. Slowly, carefully, he inched forward.

Dumbledore frowned. Duels were fought at range – why was Draco so obviously creeping closer?

Finally, the boy came close enough, and before Albus realized what he was up to, scrambled the rest of the way. He flew over the pile of rubble between them, and tackled the older man. Albus gave a whoosh of surprise as the air was knocked out of him and he stumbled back. The man could brag about Ark's benefits all he wanted, but as someone who had gone in already gifted, he hadn't gained as much survival instinct as the two students had. They had learned the hard way that not all victories are taken by flashy spells and clever plans. Sometimes you had to go back to the basics – no matter how barbaric they seemed.

He threw his wand to the side and swung his good arm, backed with a cry. Albus reeled at the shock of being physically mauled. It wasn't quite the honorable duel some might expect, but Draco wasn't here to participate in propriety. As Albus tried to regain his footing, Draco wrestled the older man to the ground and pried his mouth open. Quickly, he pushed his robe aside and fumbled for the vial of clear liquid at his belt. Yanking it free, he pulled the stopper out with his teeth. The contents inside sloshed dangerously, but without a moment to spare, Draco drained the flask into the Headmaster's mouth and forced his jaw shut. Albus' eyes went wide with horror as he swallowed against his will.

Draco, convinced that his part was done, staggered away and watched. He heaved great breaths of both relief and exhaustion. His eyes grew as big as saucers as the potion took effect. It was painful to watch, no matter how much you hated someone. It came out of Dumbledore's ears, his eyes, his mouth and nose. The man seemed to visibly deflate and age another fifty years as it started to encrust itself beneath his nails. Silver in colour, it resembled unicorn blood. In a way, it _was_. The Headmaster's very magic was draining from every cut and crack in the man's body as if it could no longer stand being inside of him.

"Headmaster," Draco whispered shakily, standing taller in an attempt to regain an air of confidence. "I present to you my final Potions project. I am sure you can guess what it does."

"Nooooooo!" Albus wailed, then gagged, trying to make himself sick despite knowing it was already too late. "This is impossible!" He turned to the shadow that had appeared in the corner. Severus stepped over and past Albus. He examined Draco - looking him over for anything that needed immediate attention. The boy was in surprisingly good shape. Other than a few scrapes and cuts that could be tended to later, Draco only needed a dislocated shoulder set right.

"Well done, Draco," he murmured, letting his charge move to retrieve his wand. Albus gave another wail of despair, and they both turned to the now pathetic form of the Headmaster, who had crawled to his knees and reached out to his Potion's Master for assistance.

"Severus! What have you done? You promised me..." Severus sighed in aggravation and pinched the bridge of his nose. Draco saw his Godfather's hands shake slightly, and knew that even though he was putting on a calm front, he was enraged. There was very little upset that his Uncle couldn't bury. Draco wondered if Albus even suspected how close he was to being murdered.

"We both made promises we didn't keep, Albus, which in the end, nullified our contract." They stared at each other for several moments, and when a protest looked to come to Albus' lips, he was cut off. "Save her – that's all I asked of you. If you had succeeded, I may have grudgingly served you. But you didn't, did you?" Severus stepped closer, towering over the man with a look of hatred. His voice became louder, angrier, as he continued. "Of course you were the obvious choice, but you were also the best! You were too strong to go after! They would still be alive!" And then, quietly, as if he was something he had never intended to bring up, he continued: "It has always bothered me. Lily was never fond of Peter. She would have never agreed to the change unless someone suggested it to them. Someone they trusted with their lives. Deny it. Please tell me that you didn't purposely let them die so you could raise Potter as you wanted."

Albus looked up at him then, sadly.

"I've made some bad decisions, Severus. Hard decisions, you must understand. Now please, stop this. Give me the antidote." Disgust bubbled up in Draco. How could a man who ranted about love all the time be so blind and selfish? Even Draco could tell that the guilty look on Albus' face was due to being caught, not because he had failed to save Potter's mother. In the end, the Headmaster was just looking out for number one - the very thing thing that he accused Tom Riddle of doing.

He imagined himself in his Godfather's place, and realized that Severus was showing extraordinary control. If it had been Hermione, Draco would be torturing the man to his death as slowly as possibly. Maybe the years had dulled the pain at least a little, but as Severus' facade of control slowly slipped away to reveal his true feelings, Draco very much doubted it.

"What should we do with him, Uncle?"

Conflicting ideas fell over Severus at that, but finally, he realized that he must stick to the plan. It was too late for him. Revenge would quell nothing at this point. Still infuriated, the Potion's Professor cast Incarcerous on Albus, willing the ropes to_ at least_ dig painfully into his wrists. Then, pulling the complaining man to his feet, he shoved him forward.

"We use him to show the Order that they've lost."

The Order had already lost, they found, as they took him down. Still, Albus would seal the fact. His capture would erase any hope that the Order had of rising again. When the three of them reached the Great Hall, there was a roar of greeting mixed with terrified murmurs. Severus yanked at Albus' robes and threw him down next to Filch.

"How dare you!" Molly Weasley shouted. "Show some respect, you traitor!" She continued to ramble, and Draco tiredly flicked his wand, causing her to slump unconsciously to the side. He turned to the rest of the group, daring them to say anything further.

"Your Headmaster is no longer magical," Draco threatened. "If any of you would like to join him, by all means, speak up now." They looked up fearfully, skirting glances at Albus who just sat silently, defeated. The knowledge that they had truly lost and that their fates now rested in the mercy of Death Eaters, settled solemnly over the group.

"Uncle, I need to get back to-"

"No need, Draco, look."

And if Severus and Draco thought their greeting was loud, it didn't compare to the cheer that rose as three more figures came stumbling in. Blaise must have taken them to the group of hiding students, because some of them were crowded behind. They looked around curiously, absorbing the details of postwar. Between Ginny and Blaise stood Hermione, tired but gradually recovering. No one had seen her fight, but they all knew what she had done. Bane, who had stayed behind after the battle, bowed deeply in respect, followed closely by the two guards he had brought along. Some of the Death Eaters gave her an informal salute.

She nodded to Blaise and Ginny, who backed away from her. Ginny kept her eyes to the ground, not wanting to see the horrified expression that crawled across each face of her family. The students behind her, realizing her turmoil, immediately moved to surround and comfort her. Blaise was one of them. Hermione, who had one goal in mind, slowly limped up the aisle and took her place to Tom's right side. Her father turned to her.

"Hermione," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. "You should rest." She gave him a tight smile and shook her head.

"I'm not that bad off. For now, I will stand where I'm meant to be." She looked up at Draco, who in turn looked to Severus. His Godfather nodded, and so Draco left his side and came to stand on the other, empty spot beside Tom. His parents watched from the sidelines, pride shining from their faces.

Tom nodded in agreement and turned to the crowd. Magical Britain was there's now, and it was time to see who they would be keeping.

* * *

><p>She sat alone in the Quidditch stands, reflecting on battle that had taken place two weeks prior.<p>

Harry was dead, she had to remind herself more than once. Thank Merlin she had not been there to see it. Most of the professors had been killed, opting to take front line positions to protect their students. Dumbledore, surprisingly, was kept alive. He had been stripped of all his powers by Draco's poison, and Tom saw this as a fate worse than death. He referred to it as the 'exile program'. Instead of killing his long time enemy, he opted to send the squib version of Albus to Azkaban. The ex-minister Fudge, along with Kingsley, had suffered similar fates.

Ron. Rufus. Alastor. It had been her wand to kill them, though each time had been easier than the last. She felt sad, but they would never haunt her the same way Lupin's final resigned look would. She hadn't wanted him to die, had even tried to save him, but he wouldn't allow it. He had forced her to let go, and she had watched him fall with a mounting horror that still brought the taste of bile to her mouth.

The casualties were severe, but not as bad as it could have been. Tom had been true to his word, and instead of executing everyone who wasn't a pureblood, they were tested for magical capacity. Those found wanting had been drained of their powers, Obliviated, and sent to live as muggles. The ends had been tied up quickly, the potion to drain magic, useful. The testing for magical capacity had started almost immediately.

The Death Eaters, of course, hadn't had to undergo testing. The students who had flocked to Draco and Hermione had been exempt as well. Unfortunately, anyone else who had meekly hid, or assisted the Order, was subject to investigation. Hermione could still see the betrayed looks in the eyes of the students as the world they knew was taken from them. The Purebloods she could understand, but she realized that anyone under half would never know that it was her doing that spared their lives.

She knew that the muggleborns and halfbloods had also been tested under harder conditions. The purebloods, depending on their line, had been given leniency. Families like the Weasleys, however, were exiled without any further consideration. No matter what secrets their leader had hid from them, Tom was still evil. Tom wanted to make it a public event, but Hermione had argued fiercely. The Weasleys would never remember the humiliation. The Wizarding World under Tom would expect Ginny to renounce her family, even though she had already been disowned, and that, in itself, was asking far too much. Hadn't she done enough already? Hermione mildly hoped Fred and George would rediscover their love of tricks and oddities, and would someday open up another shop of their own.

Ginny, of course, was allowed to stay. She had large, haunted bags under her eyes and had already lost a good stone. If anyone could Ginny get back on her feet, it was Blaise. Hermione was glad that the two of them were spending a lot of time together. After Tom had taken the effort to understand what Ginny had gone through, he had gone as far as to honour her. She suspected he had just made things worse, even if her father had, for once, had good intentions.

_Just give me some time, Hermione. I just need some time. Everything will be fine. _

She sighed. Hermione didn't want fine. Their friendship would pull through, she knew, but it would never be the same. Ginny may never have her signature carefree, joking attitude again. She woldn't for a long time to come, that was for sure. The way Arthur had whispered Ginny's name, laced with distraught betrayal, would give them both nightmares for years to come.

"You okay?" She turned to see Draco, who looked thin and wary, making his way to sit next to her. She turned back and stared at the pitch, nodding slightly.

"You going to ask me that every time?" He chuckled and shrugged.

"Probably." Silence. "Hermione," he said softly, "are you displeased with the way things turned out?"

"I chose my own path. I made my own moves. I can take nothing back. I did what was right for me, and for the Wizarding World. I just ... I have a lot on my mind, sorry." She tried not to cry, but talking about it always seemed to make things worse. Draco's arm wrapped around her and pulled her close.

"You lost a lot of friends. A lot of people died that didn't have to. A lot of things happened that wouldn't have if the Wizarding World had acknowledged what was happening, and did something about it. Hermione... I can't say that I was fighting for the same reasons. I can't even say I was fighting for the right ones. The testing, I'll admit, is probably a bit unfair, but it's a lot better than what was going to happen. One day, and it might not be for decades, things will look up. You got to believe that."

He reached out with his free hand and turned her head to force her to look at him.

"I really think though that our world can begin to climb again, to dream again. Knowledge won't be restricted, the sky won't be the limit. Just think what Ark will do for people," at her horrified look he laughed. "I mean when they're a little more prepared for it, of course. The people who belong in this world, will be in it. Those who don't, won't. Simple as that. We'll always have to live with what we've done, but ... that's OK with me. Because in twenty years we can watch our kids achieve things that would be passing fancy now. Right?"

Hermione looked at Draco, stunned. He did not hide the fact that he was searching her face for some sort of reaction.

"Maybe this isn't the right time, and I know we have a lot to do, but ..." He lowered his hand between them, and opened it slowly to show a ring nestled in the palm. "It's customary in my family to hand down the family ring when you find the girl you want to marry," he whispered, almost nervously. "Will you accept it?"

She began to cry, and laugh, and hugged him as she sobbed into his shoulder. At that moment, the war, the death, the losses – they all seemed so far away. What a silly question. What an unexpected one!

"I want to see our children achieve the impossible too," she could only choke out finally. He caressed her hand before slipping the cool metal over her ring finger, and before she knew it, Draco was on his feet, hand extended. His face may have looked a bit drawn from stress over the year, but his eyes still glittered mischievously. He was healing, she knew, and found comfort in the fact that if he was, she wouldn't be far behind.

She felt something else bubble up inside of her, an overwhelming feeling that she knew she would never feel for anyone else. She would love this man for the rest of her life. Tears pricked at her eyes as her hand reached out for him on its own.

And as he pulled her to her feet and into his embrace, kissing her soundly, Hermione wondered if he was aware of the power he held over her. For Hermione Riddle, the most powerful witch in all of Britain, would deny him nothing.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy," she whispered against his lips, then pulled him back to her. What had she done to deserve the love of someone so intelligent and wonderful? Unknown to her, Draco was wondering something quite similar about her.


	12. Epilogue

**Epilogue  
><strong>10 Years Later

* * *

><p>Hermione was up in the Astronomy Tower when she was nearly startled half to death by a five foot figure zipping over the railing and landing nearby. He stumbled off his broom before it came to a complete halt and came towards her, brandishing a dull looking knife.<p>

"Mum! Look what I found!" He took care to lower the weapon, much to her relief, when he got closer. "Grandfather told me it belongs to you."

She took the object from him, eyes going wide in shock as she took it in. She would recognize the crude lioness in the hilt no matter how long had passed. She thought this had been lost...

Big, brown eyes peered up at her innocently from under a tangle of blond curls.

"And where, pray tell, did you find it?" He looked sheepish then, as if he knew she wouldn't like the answer. She scowled fiercely. "Scorpius Remus Malfoy, how many times do I need to tell you the Ark is off limits! You're eight years old! Five years," she began to scold to no one in particular. "I told him at least five more years before he took you anywhere near there!" Then, as an afterthought, she looked even more appalled. "He _did_ accompany you, at least? Didn't just throw you in and hope for the best?"

Scorpius nodded vigorously.

"Of course, Mum. The Ark is dangerous, I know that! I never left his side once, I swear." She doubted the validity of that, but just pressed her lips into a thin line. Standing up, she shoved the knife into her belt. Picking her squealing son up in one fluid motion, she tossed him over her shoulder and started to march from the room.

_He's getting too heavy for this_, she thought, gritting her teeth.

"Muuuuuum," came the wail, but she continued to carry him all the way to the dungeons. She threw open the Potions office door furiously, finally letting her son down beside her before all the blood permanently pooled in his head. The visitor turned in his chair to greet her, but decided to remain silent as she stormed towards him.

"How many times," she demanded, slamming the knife down into the desk, "do I have to tell you? He's eight! Eight!" There was a long pause as both men drank in the sight of the dagger, and Draco leaned back in his seat. He raised his eyebrows at Tom as if to say: 'You're on your own with this one', and so Tom turned to his daughter and forced the most innocent smile he could manage. To anyone else, it would have been terrifying.

"I thought perhaps he should start early," Tom offered, knowing full well that wouldn't pacify her. Draco, in fact, had just telling him that if Hermione found out that he had been taking Scorpius to the Ark, she'd probably string him by his toes and skin him alive. "After all, I wouldn't want my favourite grandson to be behind his peers, would I?"

"Behind his peers," she repeated, mockingly. "He could pass second year exams with his eyes shut already, and probably could have graduated back in the old curriculum. He's not going to fall behind. I agreed to let you teach him wandless, despite the fact that you have questionable methods sometimes. And I agreed to let you teach him the less dangerous Dark Arts, didn't I? No, just no. You're not talking me into Ark on top of everything else. We send the fifth years through, even when I still think an extra year would result in less casualties. But eight years old!"

Tom ignored her protests and turned to look at his grandson, who was hiding behind his mother's robes apologetically. Tom smirked – it wasn't the boy's fault.

Truth be told, he wasn't here for just a visit. He had a satchel down by his feet that held a very special gift for his grandson, something that would probably send his mother into another fit. Hermione had once asked if he had anything better to do than aggravate her, and each time he could only smile. He had missed the joys of raising a child, and wouldn't miss it now - especially when the boy already showed so much promise. Though Scorpius spent most of his time with his parents, they were... well, still his parents. They had to lay down rules and carry out punishments for bad behaviour, which worked out well in Tom's favour. He was the grandfather. Grandfathers, by rights, got to break the rules and feign ignorance. In return, he was popular. This made him privy to things that not even Hermione knew about her beloved son. Things like these.

He hissed something at Scorpius – a sound that was threatening to anyone that couldn't understand Parseltongue. Hermione frowned, then realization dawned on her as her son approached his grandfather, nonplussed.

"What is it, Grandfather?" Scorpius looked intrigued, eyes on the satchel and forgetting everyone else in the room. Tom sighed, exasperated that the boy had answered in common, then reached down into the bag. Out came a snake, a hatchling, no longer than a foot. Scorpius gave a cry of delight and took the small creature into his hands.

Hermione froze as she heard the sound coming from her son's mouth. It had always been a possibility, she knew, but to hear him speak fluently in a language that was once considered dangerous, and that she didn't know he knew, was still a shock. He spoke softly to the snake, and in return it flicked out its tongue. Tom leaned forward and joined the conversation, and soon Scorpius was sent into a fit of giggles. The snake crawled up and wrapped itself around its master's small frame, and even Hermione could tell the bond was instantaneous. Scorpius turned to his mother, broad grin and pleading eyes. _Oh no, not the eyes._

"Mother, can I have her? Please?" Hermione moved to collapse in the chair next to her father and waved her hand.

"Do you do this on purpose?" she muttered at him, and she caught Draco nodding from behind his desk. Everyone knew that it was Tom's favourite sport. Scorpius, oblivious and about to ask again, turned his attention to the door instead and took off running.

"Headmaster!" Scorpius yelled, delighted. "Look what Grandfather brought me! She's one of Nagini's!" Severus went to one knee, obviously more keen on the snake than Hermione was.

"She's very beautiful," he murmured, rubbing the underside of her jaw. Hermione thought that if it was a puppy, it would be rolling and lolling by now. She wasn't aware that snakes could look so pleased. Severus, who caught the scathing look she was shooting at him, forced his face into a blank slate. "Your Grandfather is very thoughtful, giving you a poisonous snake for a pet." Tom guffawed at this finally, and even Hermione couldn't help but smile. Her ridiculous father couldn't be stopped, but it was nice for someone to acknowledge that fact. Severus, with more humour, turned his attention back to Scorpius: "When will we need to start administrating the capping draught?" The boy, only mildly aware that poisonous pets had to be temporarily devenomized while at Hogwarts, swung to his father, who had been silent this whole time. Draco just steepled his fingers and looked thoughtful.

"Not for several months still, but I'll start it tomorrow. And, just in case, I will make sure that he carries a vial of antidote at all times." Severus looked pleased at this and inclined his head. "Oh, by the way, the Zabinis should be here any time. Why don't you go and greet them?"

Scorpius gave a squeal of delight and went skidding out of the Potions room, careful not to throw his new friend.

* * *

><p>"Charrrrrrrlieeee!" The boy turned to the sound, grinning broadly at seeing his best friend. He ran ahead, leaving his parents behind, and met the other boy halfway<p>

"Cool!" he said, seeing his friend's new pet. "Where did you get it?"

"Grandfather gave her to me!" Charlie pouted at this and looked thoughtful.

"Think he'd let me have one?"

"Absolutely not," came his mother's voice as she came up behind her son. "We'll get you an owl, or a cat, or... something that doesn't eat people while they sleep." Both boys wanted to point out that there had been cases cropping up of owls pecking the eyes of their slumbering owners, but decided to wisely remain silent.

"Oh, come on, Gin, snakes aren't that bad. What are you going to do if Charlie is sorted into Slytherin?" She raised an eyebrow at him, and Charlie snorted. It was a frequent argument between his parents, but he never corrected his Mum even though he knew she was wrong. So what if Weasleys were always Gryffindor? He would definitely be Slytherin, even if he had to threaten the hat. No way would he let himself be separated from Scorpius!

"Uncle Blaise!" Scorpius greeted happily, letting the man examine his gift. "Everyone's down in Dad's classroom." Ginny crouched down beside her husband and also gave the snake a soft rub. She had no problem with snakes - as long as they weren't in her house. As the adults disappeared down the hallway, Scorpius cupped his hands over his friend's ear.

"I'll ask Grandfather about getting you one. If I have to I'll take care of it until first year, then it'll be too late to say no!" Charlie gave a whoop of excitement, eyes shining.

* * *

><p>"They'll be the death of me, I swear," Ginny muttered, and Hermione gave a grunt of agreement. She'd been saying that for years. The two women sat beside one another, watching their sons whisper back and forth despite being told three times already to quiet down. True to his word, Scorpius had gotten a second snake for his friend, and together they had raised it in secret.<p>

Madam Hooch had retired the summer before, and so Ginny was now teaching at the school. She had been the last to join the Hogwarts staff, and now all four of them were together again, only at the Head Table. Their boys had been fearful that their plan had backfired, but in the end, Ginny realized that she couldn't really say no. Blaise was all for it, and pointed out that they had dedicated _years_ to this plan. With that fresh in her mind, she was reassured that a pet snake wasn't just a passing fancy.

It was no surprise that Scorpius was sorted Slytherin. The boy was naturally polite, but he often used it to help persuade people into giving him his way. Ginny, having met a younger version of Tom during her second year, could see the uncanny resemblance between the two. They watched him join his house, and knew that the boy didn't need his family's fame to make him popular – he was naturally charismatic.

When Charlie was finally called, the boy strode confidently up to the stool and sat down. It seemed most people, his mother included, still thought that he would go Gryffindor. Hermione had heard Scorpius often claim that they would be sorted together, no matter what. Charlie probably felt the same, and coercion seemed like a good way to get into Slytherin.

So it was no surprise when "Slytherin!" interrupted her thoughts. A murmur of surprise swept through the table. She heard Ginny groan as Blaise gave a whoop of delight. Slytherin was hollering in excitement - they had, after all, got both the Malfoy_ and_ Zabini boys. If they didn't take the House Cup for the next seven years, there would be a damn good reason!

Hermione smirked and just held out her hand, waiting for the familiar weight of a galleon to be pressed into it.

* * *

><p>AN: OK, so the epilogue was a little closer than almost done! Speaking of done, I can't believe this is finally finished. Thank you again to everyone who read this story, I hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you also for your reviews, your time, and your patience when it came to updates. Knowing there were so many people reading this weekly, and reading all the feedback, was just as (if not more) fun as writing the story!

Hopefully this didn't happen to anyone, but for those who just come and check for the latest chapter, please take note that there was a chapter release _and_ an epilogue this week. If you missed the Final Battle, you missed a chapter!

Thank you all again, and goooodbyyyye!


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